


Ashes in the Fall

by Pearlhart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 1999, 90s, Baby Eren, Coming Out, Detective Erwin Smith, Emotional Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Levi/Zeke, Levi/Zeke is strictly work related, M/M, Marie/Erwin Smith - Freeform, Marie/Nile Dok - Freeform, Minor Oluo Bozado/Petra Ral, POV Erwin Smith, POV Levi Ackerman, Past Furlan Church/Levi, Prostitute Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Prostitution, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlhart/pseuds/Pearlhart
Summary: One has just seen his marriage of fifteen years fall apart, the other never had much to begin with. Levi and Erwin work the streets in two very different ways, but love tends to be found in the strangest of places.Just a slice of life story set in 1999
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 78
Kudos: 143





	1. Red numbers

**Author's Note:**

> I may, or may not, have named this after a Rage Against the Machine song

Dusk is already falling by the time Levi stirs out of his sleep. He hadn't fallen into bed until around one pm earlier that day, so he's calculating that he got all of six hours of sleep. About two more than he usually gets. His brain is foggy and it takes a while of him just lying there, splayed out on his pillows and staring at the red numbers of his alarm clock, before the state of wakefulness registers.

It is Thursday and he doesn't really have anywhere to be.

Another half hour passes while he remains in bed unwilling to rise up from his warm covers. The one bedroom flat is cold because of the central heating being out of commission, _again_ , and Levi isn't about to spend any more electricity using his heater. Not when he's living alone this week. Isabel will be home on Sunday evening which means that until then he can save on the bills by keeping most of the electricity shut off. Maybe if he offer to suck the landlord's dick again he'll finally get around to fixing that central heating. That offer has already gotten Levi out of trouble for paying his rent late a couple of times, but he doesn't want to overuse it either- that's just a sure fire way to get someone to expect it rather than to be grateful for it. And it isn't like his shitty apartment is worth that dirty dick in his mouth, anyway. If it hadn't been for Isabel then he wouldn't have minded couch surfing until he could save enough for somewhere nicer. But as it is he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. Mind soured, Levi finally gets up and shivers violently. He hasn't really eaten since sometime yesterday so that isn't really helping his case any. Even with two layers of socks on he can feel the chill creep up from the floor. Petra had suggested getting some more carpets for extra insulation and it really isn't such a bad idea. They don't have to be anything fancy, really, just something to take the bite off.

Finally getting up, Levi quickly shoves his feet into Isabel's bunny slippers that are a few sizes too small and wrestles his way into a hoodie. Moving helps a bit on getting his blood flowing to his stiff limbs. Because his bed is located in the living room with the draughty windows it is extra chilly. The pros of having his bed in the living room is that he only needs to cross the small room to reach the kitchenette so that the can put on a kettle for tea, but it also means that his bed dual functions as a couch, though Isabel has been put under strict orders to sit on the _fucking_ floor if she is to eat crisps while she plays on the playstation. She got to borrow the annoying thing from Oluo next door, though these days she's been nagging for a Nintendo 64, but it isn't like Levi has that kind of money. He told her once that she could choose: does she want money for college or a Nintendo 64? It had been a stupid question of course, because she'd told him straight up that she was gonna become a stripper anyway and didn't need no education. Levi had been so furious he'd grounded her for a week for that.

She'd been screaming at him that he was a hypocrite through the bedroom door at which point Levi had called Furlan and chewed him out because he knew where _that_ sentiment came from. Furlan with his white collar job and new _girl_ friend, living the straight edge life. Well if someone could be described as a hypocrite it's fucking Furlan. Levi can feel his mood souring even further just remembering that entire incident and tries to distract himself by going through his cupboards to see if there's something to eat. There's nothing.

It's not exactly winter anymore, but spring seems aeons away with the gloomy light of dusk filtering in through the dirty windows, falling listless on the otherwise so cheery pink tiles lining the kitchen area. Levi stands staring into his empty fridge and finally eyes a half empty packet of cheese. Grabbing it, he shoves a couple of slices into his mouth and chews thoughtfully. They're slightly rubbery and there's a vague taste of mould, but apparently you can't die from cheese mould so Levi merely shrugs. There's some instant coffee left so Levi boils some water for it.

A loud crash next door rattles the cups and plates in his cupboard and is immediately followed by a woman screaming “ _EREN!_ ” Levi rolls his eyes and sighs; the kid's father hasn't picked him up, _again_. It's past seven in the evening and Levi doubts anyone will come and collect the kid at all which, sadly, isn't exactly novel. Petra told Levi on one occasion that Eren's dad works as a renowned surgeon and often can't make it home until late in the night and believes it is better to just let Eren stay where he is. Levi has his suspicions, which he has voiced more than once, that Eren's father just doesn't like the kid much and will probably just abandon him entirely one day, and then Petra will be stuck with him. She denies this vehemently, of course, claiming that when Eren's dad does turn up he's a really nice guy and everything. Levi has silently sworn that if he ever catches the so called dad somewhere private he will have a word with the man. A very _physical_ word.

Petra, Levi's neighbour and long time friend, soft hearted woman and angel walking the earth, had the amazing idea one day that she could start a daycare for kids with parents that work strange hours. Most daycares closes at five, but that doesn't really help the single parents out there who have no one to look after their child when they have to go to their second or third job. It's a good idea in theory, Levi thinks, except with Eren in particular Petra might have bitten over more than she can chew. That kid has issues, though no wonder.

The racket on the other side continues, so Levi flicks on the radio and Destiny's Child pours out with “Bills, Bills, Bills.” Humming along to the mindless tune, Levi thinks he wouldn't mind finding a guy who could help him out with his bills for once, though there's a greater chance of pigs suddenly sprouting wings en masse just as hell freezes over. Men spend their cash on hookers before going home to their so called loved ones, complaining about cuts in the budget at work so they won't get that bonus after all. Fuckers, the lot of them.

Though on the other hand, it does keep Levi in business.

Once he's done chugging the disgusting coffee, if you can even call it that, Levi grabs a chair and drags it over to the kitchen counters. Standing on tiptoes on it, he barely reach the top of the cupboards and the box of old Christmas cookies that he's hidden there. In it are wads of bills neatly rolled up with rubber bands. Levi has to keep changing their location so that Isabel won't find them and spend everything on something ridiculous- like those sneakers that light up when you jump. Who the fuck thought up something that lame?

Not bothering to change out of his Adidas sweats, Levi discards the bunny slippers in favour of his old and tattered doc martens and manages to force on a denim jacket over his t-shirt and hoodie. He doesn't bother to look himself in the mirror on the way out, he knows he looks like someone's abandoned kid left at a mall parking lot.

Standing outside Petra's door, Levi can hear an ungodly racket going on inside. Eren is probably throwing the worst tantrum again, something which usually ends with him hurting himself if Petra can't calm him down in time. Knocking resolutely, it takes a long while before the door finally opens and Petra peers out at him through the slim crack she holds open. Abject relief flashes across her face once she recognizes him and she hurries to undo the security chain so that she can open the door fully.

“I'm heading for the store,” Levi explains, “anything you need?”

Petra is looking frazzled... well, more so than usual. Her face is blotched an ugly red that sets her many freckles on fire and her clothing is rumpled like she's just been in a physical fight. Behind her, Eren is peering up at Levi with those startlingly blue eyes that are wide and teary. A heartbeat passes in which Levi suspects that the child is trying to come to terms with what emotion is the most important, further anger or excitement, but excitement must have won because he gives Levi his brightest, most gap-toothed smile and Levi has to fight with himself to not be instantly charmed by it. “I want animal crackers!” Eren demands, lisping slightly since his two front teeth are gone.

“Oh really?” Levi says, “have you deserved any animal crackers with your behaviour?”

Eren looks immediately nonplussed, but then his small face crumbles and he looks away abashed, shrugging one small shoulder. So he knows that he's being an ass then. Petra pets his head before trying to dislodge his clinging hands from her jeans, but he isn't letting go. It is a half-hearted attempt and she quickly surrenders. “Oh would you be a darling and pick a few things up for me?” Petra asks slightly breathless before she turns around and stumbles back into the apartment, Eren still firmly attached to her leg. Upon returning she has a post it note with a hastily scribbled shopping list and some money that Levi puts in his pocket.

“Oluo isn't home?” Levi asks. Obviously he isn't, since the man rarely misses an opportunity to chat a bit, but he feels it is the polite thing to ask.

“No, he's doing the night shift at the gas station,” Petra sighs and tries to shove some of her wayward hair out of her face. “We hadn't really, uh... planned on having any sleepovers tonight.”

Of course not.

“I wanna watch Littlefoot,” Eren demands suddenly and jostles Petra in his effort to get her attention again.

“But it just makes you cry,” Petra reminds him. The child gasps and throws Levi a quick look of mortification, like being called out for crying in front of Levi is the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen. Shrugging, Levi turns with a short wave and heads for the stairs. No point even trying the lift, really.

“But I wanna go to the store too!” Eren screeches behind him.

“What, so now you wanna go with Levi, but you didn't want to go with me?” Petra chides, her tone of voice bordering on exhausted. Yeah, Levi is pretty certain that one day Petra will be calling Eren's parents wondering why they aren't showing up and find the number out of order.

Stepping out of the building, Levi finds that somehow it is warmer outside than inside the building despite the sun having gone down and he suddenly decides that he's just about had enough of their crappy landlord. He won't suck his dick, he'll just fucking kill him at this point.

There's a convenience store right on the corner from their apartment complex and the garish neon light takes on a despondent hue fighting against the depression that is mid March. Just the look of it has Levi wanting a cig, but he's out and has to make due chewing irritably at his thumb nail as he grabs one of the shopping baskets. He peers at Petra's note and thinks that maybe some of this shit would be better for Isabel instead of the instant ramen and frozen TV dinners Levi usually gets. But who the fuck has the time to actually prepare all of this shit? Grabbing lettuce, tomatoes and a cucumber for Petra, Levi fills the other side of the basket with 1-2-3 mac'n'cheese and a six-pack of beer for himself. A woman wearing slippers and a bathrobe over what is obviously her pyjamas eyes him critically when he decides to add a cheap bottle of wine as well. Levi can see the cogwheels in her brain struggle to put two and two together, and when she finally opens her mouth to say something, he cuts her off by sneering, “mind your own business, you reek of cat piss.”

Affronted, the woman is thankfully not one of those who enjoys a good screaming match at the local convenience store at half past seven in the evening, so she turns around and disappears behind another isle. Levi knows what he looks like, but people can fucking learn to keep their mouths shut about it. Feeling like he's done with his shopping, Levi heads for the registers when he passes the shelves lined with cookies and eyes the animal crackers. Petra probably won't thank him for giving Eren anything with sugar in it, god knows the kid is hyper enough as it is without it, but there's just something in the heartbreak of those big, blue eyes that tear at Levi's shrivelled and dead heart.

At the register he divides his own and Petra's shopping into two piles and places the box of animal crackers in his own. He knows Petra struggles to make the money last and it isn't exactly helping her any to suddenly have Eren living there more or less full time. Despite being a “famous” doctor, Eren's dad sure doesn't offer to pay extra to have her take care of his son. The cashier finishes Petra's groceries and Levi pays with her cash, making sure to safely pocket the change and the note, but then the cashier starts on Levi's and stops dead on the beer.

“D'you have ID?” she asks in a bored droll and stares at him like she has all the time in the world despite the quickly amassing queue. Levi groans internally and starts patting down his jacket. Is this the one with his wallet or no? He can't even fucking remember. He really does not feel up to making two trips to the store, but neither is he gonna spend the time in his shitty apartment alone and sober. The guy behind Levi is shifts restlessly and heaves an annoyed sigh and Levi wants to kick his kneecaps out. But just as he resigns himself to have to make two runs, his hand curls around his wallet. Pulling out his driver's licence, he hands it over to the cashier who looks at it. Her thinly drawn eyebrows raise up to the hairline and her gaze flicker from the ID and down at Levi several times. Exasperated, Levi shoves off the hood he's pulled up to give her a better view, yet it takes several long, agonizing moments of scrutinizing before she finally shrugs in a “ _I don't even give a fuck,_ ” way and continues to ring up his groceries.

“And a packet of Camel filters,” Levi grouses. They're not his favourite but they're reasonably cheap and they do the job in giving him cancer regardless. The cashier eyes him again like he's being an obstinate child, but throws the packet of cigarettes down with the rest of his shit. It's not like he doesn't shop there regularly, it isn't like she hasn't checked is ID before, but Levi supposes the level of interest is below zero in a job like this. And he can't even blame her: he hates his own customers as well and hardly remember one from the other. Whenever they tell him shit like “ _yeah, do it like last time, I liked that,_ ” Levi is always at a loss because he probably fucked a bus-load of other guys since whenever last time was, and how the hell is he supposed to differentiate one crooked cock from another?

Bagging his and Petra's groceries, Levi trudges back to the apartment complex. The unmistakable tunes from _the Land Before Time_ blares from the television when Petra opens the door once more. At her bidding he enters the flat and places her groceries on the kitchen counter. Petra and Oluo's place is slightly larger than his with it's own kitchen area, but the architect must have been high as a kite when they designed the entire apartment complex because all the kitchen does is make the flat feel a little more like a bunker.

“You're too lenient on that kid,” Levi admonishes Petra as the music from the movie reaches its crescendo.

“You're one to talk,” Petra snorts and pulls the box of animal crackers from the bag, shaking it in front of his face accusingly. “Hey Eren!” Petra calls, “uncle Levi brought you something from the store.”

There's a hurried patter of feet across the floor and a mop of messy hair and bright, curious eyes charges through the kitchen door. Eren barely manages to stop himself before he barrels into Petra and a moment of confusion passes as he stares at the box of animal crackers. There's streaks of dried tears on his chubby, red cheeks, but then the kid grabs the box and a huge grin nearly splits his entire face in two.

“Thank you, Levi!” Eren lisps and crushes the box to his chest like it's a precious treasure. That such a small gesture of kindness can bring so much joy to the child makes Levi feel dirty and he has to look away from the pure adoration in Eren's eyes.

“It's whatever, kid,” Levi coughs uncomfortably and ruffles Eren's shambolic hair.

“You wanna watch Littlefoot with me?” Eren asks buoyantly, “we can share my crackers, but I want the tiger ones 'cus they're my favourites.”

“Can't,” Levi cuts him off and when the hopeful expression on Eren's face crumbles into disappointment, he tries to amend, “I have to work tonight, but maybe we can play ball in the park or something tomorrow if your dad hasn't picked you up.”

Levi can't really think of anything he wants to do less, but the immediate reaction from Eren makes the promise worth it. “Yes!” Eren hollers and jumps up and down to further amplify his response. Then he and his crackers are gone and Levi can hear him run around in the living room, the patter of his feet sometimes interrupted by the sound of him jumping from the couch in an effort to work out all the sudden, happy energy.

“That's really nice of you,” Petra smiles, her cheeks flushed pink and eyes bright. “Now I have something to threaten him with if he doesn't get in the bath and to bed in time.” She winks at him consiprationally, like Levi just single handedly defused a dangerous bomb. Though Levi knows he's going to regret this promise, he can't help but feel a little better leaving the flat with an excited Eren and a cheery Petra in his wake.

It's closer to nine when Levi is finally done shovelling down the mac'n cheese and is finishing off his second beer. He's feeling a bit more like himself, limbs looser and mind quicker, when he steps into the shower to get ready for the night. The hot water feels like a blessing on his cold skin and Levi spends longer than he probably should basking in the heat. When he finally exits he's red all over and his fingers have pruned, but he's at least feeling a bit more like a living human being again. Chugging right from the wine bottle, Levi turns the radio up while trying to put his hair in order and flicks on the blue eyeliner that makes his eyes look larger and more doe-y. For added emphasis, Levi smears on some pink and glittery lip gloss as well. It used to belong to Isabel, but Levi confiscated it some time ago and put it to better use. Where she got it from he has no idea since she doesn't get an allowance, but he has his suspicions that she just right out stole it. If he hadn't been such an advocate for privacy he would have ransacked her room because he's pretty fucking certain there's more stolen goods stored in there.

Even if its cold outside, Levi decides to put on a pair of velour running shorts that barely covers anything and a top with Warhol's Marilyn Monroe portrait and the text “SLUT!” boldly typed above it. But since he's not a complete masochist he covers it all with his pride and joy; an oversized, authentic leather pilot bomber jacket with patches he's collected from various concerts throughout the decade that he's owned it. He'll easily stab any bitch who tries to steal it. Grabbing one of Isabel's ridiculous chokers and rumpling his tennis socks, Levi finishes his high school drop out look before heading out into the chilly night. It is all about selling that fantasy of debauched youth or some such. Levi hasn't given it much thought, just knows that it works and it pays his bills.

The bus is full of people either going home from late evening shifts or heading out for their night jobs and Levi is left standing. Someone's hand keeps “accidentally” brushing his ass, but he can't be bothered to do anything about it. He's in his uniform, so to speak, and the switch in his brain has been flicked to “ _on_ ”. When Levi finally gets off outside of Pride Maria, the largest gay club in the district, the someone with the hand follows after him. Levi pretends not to notice for half a block and pulls a lolipop from his voluminous pockets before popping it in his mouth. They're nearly outside the club now and the music can be heard pumping out towards them. There's no one in line outside, merely a couple of bored looking security guards having a cigarette and a chat. Turning around, Levi walks backwards as he regards this someone. He looks fairly clean and his eyes light up when he sees that Levi has finally deigned to notice him.

“I'm not for free tonight,” Levi tells him bluntly since there is never any point in stringing a John along.

The John smiles the smile of a man satisfied. “How about the restroom at Pride Maria then?” the John suggests, “I'm just looking for a bit of quick fun tonight, anyway.”

Levi licks his lollipop and holds out his hand, letting the John grab it and they head into the club together. Levi knows how much Johns appreciate it when it looks like they're dating rather than buying and selling, and so he does his best in trying to look like a boyfriend. A happy John doesn't mind tipping so holding onto that slightly sweaty hand will probably be worth it in the end. The security doesn't bother checking Levi's ID, thankfully, since they already know him pretty well- one of them quite intimately at that. There are plenty of people inside despite it being a rather morose Thursday, but they're mostly all regulars who use the club as a place to meet, have a few beers and to chat. It reminds Levi that he should bring Petra and Oluo along again since their straight asses are such a hoot to have at the gay bar.

The John is true to his word and he's satisfied with a handjob after which Levi lets him kiss him for a bit. That small intimacy puts the John in such a good mood that he pays for a full session and promises to look for Levi again in the future. Bagging himself a polite and returning customer that early in the night seems promising and a bit of Levi's gloom starts to disappear. The positive experience is quickly followed by a row of tequila shots, given to him by another John, that pushes Levi all the way into fun mode which helps when it turns out the John wants a threesome. He explains that Levi is a spur of the moment birthday gift bought for the John's boyfriend which is cute, really, and Levi has been in on weirder and shadier deals. It isn't exactly comfortable with the three of them in the car, but they make it work with Levi lying down on his back with one of them working his mouth and the other his ass. Floating on the tequila, Levi doesn't feel much of it and the two Johns act like that's the craziest shit they've ever done afterwards. They're so pumped up they end up overpaying him by an entire zero, and Levi isn't about to correct them on that.

It isn't until he's heading back to the club from the parking lot that his evening takes a sharp turn for the worse. There's a car on standby outside the club and there's a reason the security hasn't told it to move despite it being a no parking zone. A familiar man with shaggy blonde hair, ridiculous 70s glasses and dressed in a gaudy white suit breaks into a wicked smile when he sees Levi trot down the pavement on slightly shaky legs. When the man Levi had hoped he wouldn't be seeing ever again pulls away from the car he's been leaning against and heads towards him, another man whom Levi hadn't even noticed yells out, “what are you _doing_ , Jaeger?”

Levi stops dead in his tracks and tries to assess the situation in his drunk mind. His mouth is still greasy from condom lube and he has been making up is mind to quit while the night is still good, but this changes everything. The stranger who is yelling from the car gets out of it and stalks after detective Zeke Jaeger, serious brows drawn into a furious scowl. “I asked you a question, Jaeger,” the other detective insists again, “weren't we heading back to the station?”

“Calm down, Smith,” detective Jaeger drawls, his hands in his pockets as he prowls towards Levi. “I'm just here to check up on my favourite boy.”

Levi sneers because isn't that just fucking fantastic. He hasn't seen Jaeger for weeks, possibly months, and Levi had stupidly thought that the fucker would never return. But of course, people like him just thrive on power and it's not really even Levi that he wants, all that he desires is a little thing that can't say no. And Levi can't say no, not to Jaeger, not when that fucker is holding information hostage. The taller man steps up to Levi and pushes his hand under the jacket to knead the bare skin on Levi's shoulder. At least his hands are warm and dry and Levi's mind is still drowning in tequila or else he probably wouldn't have been able to keep himself from punching Jaeger in the kidney. The other detective, Smith was it? Stands at a bit of a distance, but he's illuminated by the garish light of the club. He looks a bit like what Levi imagines Jaeger would have looked like if he ever bothered to groom himself properly. Pale, blonde and blue eyed, but wearing a much more understated work suit that somehow fits at all the right places regardless. He's a _big_ guy though, and Levi is hoping they aren't thinking about double teaming him. He doesn't think he got it in him to do that twice in one night.

“Jaeger, are you seriously attempting to solicit a prostitute right in front of me?” Smith asks, a note of incredulity in his voice. Levi wants to laugh, the naïve question coupled with a faint bumpkin accent makes it painfully obvious that Smith has to be new to the city.

“Oh my god, Smith,” Jaeger groans like he's embarrassed to be in his company and rubs the bridge of his nose underneath his stupid glasses. “This has been a really shitty day alright, and I just need to blow off some steam with my boy, that's all, so why don't you just wait in the car?”

The look of utter shock on Smith's face is pretty hilarious, Levi has to admit, and he would have laughed except the tequila is trying its best to force its way out of his mouth again. Swallowing convulsively a few times, Levi doesn't struggle when Jaeger turns them around and leads him up to the small enclosure behind the bar. It's just a small patio with some benches where the friends of the owners of the establishment can sit in relative privacy. There are no one here now, but Levi knows that if there had been they would have evacuated pretty quickly; Levi isn't the only one putty in Jaeger's hand after all- if there is anything, just the smallest thing, on your record that can be used as blackmail you better be sure Jaeger knows about it. But Jaeger has kept his word to Levi, he's shut up about it for five years actually, and Levi isn't about to fuck all of that up by breaking his part of that deal. Obediently he gets down on his knees in front of Jaeger who has sat down on one of the benches and he feels like a peasant kneeling in front of a king. The cold asphalt is scraping at his bare knees and Levi knows that he's cold even if he can't feel it through the numbness of the alcohol.

“You look tired, baby,” Jaeger coos and cups Levi's face to turn it up towards himself so that he can get a closer look. “Your eyeliner is all smudged and everything, have you been crying?” Levi hasn't cried, though he's been choking on his fair share of dick so far this night which tends to make the eyes well up quite a bit. He doesn't say that though, merely shakes his head slightly.

There's a moth flickering around the industrial light above them, throwing its body against the screen with single-minded purpose. Levi hears more than sees Jaeger undo the zipper of his gaudy suit and complies when his head is pressed down. A door opens somewhere and music spills out and Levi tries to place it, is it Pearl Jam? Petra would probably have known... The dick entering his mouth tastes like its been cramped inside Jaeger's suit the entire day and Levi tries to remember if he took the garbage out before leaving the flat- the garbage disposal won't be back until next Thursday, after all. The cock presses against the back of his throat and Levi swallows around it the way he knows Jaeger likes. When Jaeger forces his dick even further down Levi's throat he grabs a tight hold of the strange fabric of the trouser legs and he can feel the tears spill down his cheeks all over again, though all it does is make Jaeger hum in something in-between sympathy and lust.

“Dear baby,” Jaeger coos again and wipes at the tears, “you're so _fucking_ pretty.” But Jaeger doesn't wear a condom even though Levi has asked him to many times, so when he comes Levi tries to draw back, but Jaeger holds him down and Levi is forced to choke on it.

Sighing satisfied and putting himself away, Jaeger gets up from the bench and stretches like a cat who just got all the cream. With a chuckle and a pat on the head like Levi is just a little kid, Jaeger hands Levi a handsome stack of bills that he instantly pockets- he'll count them later. Jaeger might be a a manipulative fuck, but he's a generous fuck and even if Levi hates him, the pay is always worth it.

He is left kneeling on the ground trying to gather himself after Jaeger has walked off to do whatever the fuck he does, but Levi quickly has to call it quits and rushes over to the closest dustbin to violently heave into it. An unholy mix of cum, tequila, beer and lube is forced out of his stomach, but he feels instantly better afterwards. Shivering slightly despite the warm jacket, Levi heads back into the club to get a glass of water and clean himself up a bit in the bathroom. His knees are bruised and scraped with a shallow trail of blood running down one leg. Putting his hand in his pocket and curling it around the fresh money has a small smile curl at the corner of his mouth regardless.

The next morning Levi is startled awake by a thunderous knock on his door. The banging quickly transfers to his head and he groans, twisting around under his blankets and duvet with the undeniable consequences of one tequila shot too many.

“Levi!” a small voice calls from the other side of the door and Levi falls back into a limp heap in the bed. Fuck, he forgot his promise to Eren. To be perfectly honest he'd hoped his dad would actually pick him up in the morning, but no such luck apparently. With herculean effort, Levi manages to roll himself out of bed and pads over to the door and opens it for Eren who is already jumping up and down in excitement. The kid zooms past him with barely a hello and runs over to look for his favourite motorcycle magazine in the magazine rack. Eren has looked at it so many times now that some of the pages has gotten stuck together and the cover has lost its shine. Leaving the kid to his own devices, Levi shuffles over to the fridge to get a can of beer. The first sip of it has him shaking and shivering, but once he's chugged half of it down he feels a bit more like a human being.

“I'm gonna get this bike,” Eren declares and holds the picture up for Levi to see. He's seen that picture a thousand times before though, because Eren says the same thing every god damned time he's over. It's a gunmetal blue Harley Davidson 1997 fatboy and Levi made the mistake once of complimenting Eren's taste in bikes and now the kid won't shut up about it. “I'm gonna drive it real fast and I've decided that you're my biker babe,” Eren offers, his smile revealing the ridiculous tooth gap. The new addition to Eren's fantasies as a biker has Levi choking on his beer and he has to take a minute to digest it.

“Biker babe?” Levi echoes as he bumps himself on the chest with his fist and swallows his consequent burp, “where the fuck did you get that word?”

“Jean,” Eren replies as he trails one grubby finger along the picture, “he says that his dad says that if I'm gonna be a real biker I need a biker babe, so you can be mine.”

“Sure,” Levi capitulates. Rummaging for the bottle of aspirin he knows is in the top drawer, he finds it and takes three with the rest of his beer. He should probably eat something with it, but the half mouldy cheese isn't exactly appealing.

“Are we heading out to the park now?” Eren asks and stares up at Levi with his owlish eyes, so full of childish excitement and Levi has to look away again because he _really_ doesn't feel up to it. But Eren is a sharp kid who is used to being rejected and translates Levi's avoidance right away and the happiness turns hard and cold. Levi knows Eren won't be throwing a tantrum around him, he'll just turn quiet and head back to Petra's to watch that fucking _Land Before Time_ movie for the hundredth time while waiting for his father to maybe come pick him up. And fuck it, Levi doesn't want to be one of those men in anyone's life.

“I just gotta take a piss and brush my teeth,” Levi mutters, because Eren really has him wrapped around his chubby little finger, “then we'll head out.” The stunned joy on Eren's face is worth it even if Levi has to lean over the sink and take several deep breaths to keep the beer and aspirin down.


	2. Broken Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It is the rent boy Jaeger picked up a couple of days ago and Erwin waits for the mortification to settle in him, but it doesn't. The boy looks wary, eyeing Erwin where he stands half shielded by his car door and still not explaining why he stopped him in the first place._
> 
> _“What do you want?” the guy asks, restlessly moving from one foot to the other. He's not dressed as flashy as some of the others that Erwin has been watching, but he is wearing a dress underneath his jacket non the less._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I offer some angst in these trying times?

There really aren't any words that can describe it, the feeling, or perhaps more accurately, the lack of feeling, that settles heavy on Erwin when he sees the car in the driveway. He shouldn't have known, there's no reason that he should have been suspicious, yet there is absolutely no surprise when he silently unlocks the front door to his house and he hears his wife laughing and she's answered by a male voice, one that Erwin recognizes and knows well enough. It's dark outside and he sees their reflection in the large living room window from where he stands, stunned, in the hallway.

When Marie transferred to the flagship store in Trost as the new daily manager, she'd struck up a fast friendship with Nile, who is her co-manager. A friendship that, if you were the type of person to get jealous, went far beyond that of mere colleagues. But Erwin had simply been happy for her since they were both new to the city and making friends had been daunting. Case in point; Erwin is even now, six months later, barely beyond that of acquaintance with his immediate colleagues. He deeply dislike and even distrust his partner, Zeke Jaeger, whom he spends several hours with every single day. But Marie has always been a social butterfly so it makes sense for her to forge strong bonds- she always has. It had been one of the reasons Erwin had fallen for her in the first place.

Now, however, Erwin understands just how fucking _stupid_ he's been. The shame of it burns in him and he wonders why it's not grief or even anger that he's feeling, but his pride is crushed to the point where he doubts he'll ever have such feelings again. The flush on his face is one of humiliation- he didn't see or understand that the person he thought he knew better than anyone in the world was engaging in an affair with someone else. That Marie has been sharing the intimacy and sanctity of their marriage with, essentially, a stranger. He feels so bare.

Turning around in the hallway, Erwin exits the house just as quietly as he entered it.

Contrary to his habits he had decided not to call from the police station earlier to tell Marie that he was coming home. He wanted it to be a bit of a surprise since he loves it when her face lights up whenever she sees him unexpectedly and lately there's been too many nights working over-time. Their entire team is mobilized to solve a new string of murders that is looking more and more like it fits the pattern of a serial killer, and while it's both exhilarating and challenging work, it also demands all too much of his time. Erwin unlocks the door to his brand new Mercedes, a bonus given to him since the job transference he accepted was essentially a demotion, and he sits staring at the lone little patio light of his house. Moving to the big city, buying a house, digging into their new careers; it had all been tinted with so much hope for the future and yet- here they were, miles and aeons apart. The world goes dark at the edges and Erwin belatedly remembers to take a deep breath. He takes several for good measure, letting them out slowly so that he won't suddenly start yelling and alerting the neighbours.

The neighbours... they've probably all seen the stranger's car in the driveway and talked amongst themselves. How funny isn't it that a detective can't see the clear clues that his wife is cheating on him? Harr-de-fucking-harr-harr. Marie and Nile are currently fucking on the couch, on Erwin's new god damn couch, and it speaks of such a level of assurance that they won't get caught that they must have done this several times before. They're not hiding away at a motel or even at Nile's place, no, they're bold and brazen in Erwin's own living room and Marie has never been a cruel woman, so this must have been born from complacence.

Starting the ignition, he pulls out of the driveway and heads back the way he came. It's a dark and chilly late evening in March and the soft drizzle of rain has the potential of becoming snow. The window wipers move lazily back and forth and Erwin just drives. He doesn't know where to go. He has no close friends in the city, no one he feels he can confess this too. Marie is his _wife_ after all, his best friend, and he feels like he's failing something. Losing. Absurdly, all he wants to do is find Marie and tell her about this and ask for her advice on what to do, but-

It feels like a jagged piece of glass is piercing through Erwin's skull in a sudden flash of crushing loss and the pain is so deep and so startling, Erwin nearly swerves off the street.

He can't go to Marie, he can't ever go to Marie again, because she was the one who caused this pain. His _ally_. Something in him snaps with the grief.

There aren't all that many cars out at this time in the evening and the headlights rushing past intermittently in the other lane is jarring to the white noise that's taken over Erwin's mind. He can't feel or think right now because if he does, he'll crumble. There has to be somewhere he can go to distract himself before he does something he know he'll regret. Erwin is not a man of impulse- whatever he does is usually a result of careful consideration or years of ingrained habits. For a brief moment he thinks of Mike, one of his co-workers, who is a quiet guy who seems to have his head screwed on right and who does an admirable job as a detective. Erwin likes him and they've had more than one good conversation, but their relationship is nowhere the point where he can come tumbling out of the rain at nine in the evening. As far as Erwin is aware Mike is married and has two small daughters, both probably preparing to go to bed as he drives down street after street, wondering how his life can already be this fucked up. There is nowhere he can go and neither can he go home. What home? How could he ever return there and feel normal? To sleep in that bed where he knows they've probably fucked, or sit on _that_ couch watching a movie? It is soiled.

Erwin's ingrained habits takes him towards the police station and he has a vague idea that he'll just spend his night there working on the case. That will keep him busy and no one will ask him too many questions about it. Shadis might get a bit annoyed because of Erwin's constant over time cutting into their budget, but that's a gripe he'll deal with later. Something like relief washes over him now that he has an idea of where he's going.

His route passes by the more flamboyant clubbing area and even though Erwin imagines that it is still early for these types, the pavement outside is already lined up with people dressed in flashy and colourful clothes. The sparkling jewellery, absurd hair and flapping fabrics of the over the top costumes bypasses the grey mist that's taken over Erwin's brain and his heart skips a beat. He can't help but smile when a tall woman on impossible stilettos does a pirouette in front of another group and they cheer loudly- faces caked with make-up and glitter.

Erwin does something on impulse then.

Pulling up on one of the side-streets by the taxi lanes he cuts the engine and just sits there and stares at the revelry in front of him. There's no reason for him to be here, but the sound of the people talking and yelling, the low thump of the music and the general excitement of the celebrating people preparing for a Saturday night out is infectuous. If nothing else, they make it easy to notice them, to let ones mind wander and the imagination flow. It is like they're inviting anyone who sees them into a brief flash of their lives- effortlessly giving of themselves and Erwin laps it all up. He imagines that if he had lived a different life, had grown up in the city rather than in the backwater that is Shiganshina, he could have become like these people. To Erwin's inexperienced eyes they look like they incorporate life itself and it takes a long while of staring before Erwin realises that several of the most flashy women are in fact... _men_? It isn't until one of them starts yelling at another right in front of Erwin's car that he hears that the voice is rather on the masculine side. There has to be some kind of event happening, Erwin deduces, because the people don't stop showing up despite the cold and drizzly rain. He knows now, thanks to Jaeger explaining it in no uncertain terms, that Pride Maria is a gay club and he was quite curious about it the first few times he drove past it in the evening when the music blasted and the strobe lights flashed. There is nothing like this in Shiganshina, merely a dive bar in a basement that has been invite only for some time after what the local paper called an “incident” that claimed the life of two people, but it had all happened before Erwin was old enough to know what a hate crime was or even that homosexual people existed. Once he was aware of both of those things he'd been too scared to go.

Now, sitting lonely in the dark car and watching the peacock dressed people greet each other like old family, Erwin's gut is churning in something like envy. He just needs someone, anyone, a human to talk to and to feel the warm skin of that's _real_ and right _there_. The yearning nearly has him gasping.

It is in this moment that Erwin sees a familiar shape walk past his car. Then and there he doesn't remember why it is familiar or in what circumstance he's seen this person before, only that he knows that face. One face that sticks out in the sea of strangers and before he has the wherewithal to stop himself and ask why, Erwin has opened the car door and yelled, “hey, wait!”.

The person stops and looks behind himself and the small, pale face is confused for about a second before recognition dawns. The moment of impulse has passed and Erwin finally remembers who this person is. It is the rent boy Jaeger picked up a couple of days ago and Erwin waits for the mortification to settle in him, but it doesn't. The boy looks wary, eyeing Erwin where he stands half shielded by his car door and still not explaining why he stopped him in the first place.

“What do you want?” the guy asks, restlessly moving from one foot to the other. He's not dressed as flashy as some of the others that Erwin has been watching, but he is wearing a dress underneath his jacket non the less. It's a short little thing and even though Erwin doesn't really know the first thing about women fashion, he imagines that it's something young teenage girls might wear. The impression is further enhanced by the platform shoes and lip gloss and Erwin wonders what hell he's going to burn in because he finds it cute. It's fucking _cute_ and Erwin can feel his cheeks suddenly heat up and his fingertips tingle.

“I just want to talk,” Erwin finally answers and he realises that is the honest truth. The guy has hung around while Erwin took his sweet time replying, perhaps he's curious despite himself and wants to know what the country bumpkin detective wants with him. Erwin hasn't caught him in the act of selling, so there is no reason for him to be nervous. Not that he looks nervous either, merely midly annoyed with his fine eyebrows drawn into a mild frown.

“I'm working tonight,” the guy says and indicates himself and his get up, “so unless it's work talk you're after, I can't really help you.”

Erwin opens his mouth to tell the guy that it's alright and for him to be on his way, but what actually tumbles out is, “sure, we can do work talk.”

The guy's eyes widen a fraction, barely perceptible in the half-dark of the neon lights, and then looks Erwin up and down again critically. “You sure you know what kind of talk you're asking for here?” he questions while idly scratching at his leg, incidentally hiking up the already ridiculously short dress to reveal the milky white skin of his upper thigh. Erwin's mouth goes dry at the sight of it and he thinks that for the first time in his life, he knows exactly what kind of talk he's asking for. The kind of talk that's only been the vaguest fantasy in his peripheral, something that's always belonged to others and he could only stand on the outside, looking in. But now he's here by a gay nightclub, talking to a male prostitute and men dressed as women prancing around him, hugging, kissing, laughing. Maybe if he he hadn't been so emotionally wrecked and tethering on a dangerous edge, he'd ask himself some more questions as to why and how these sudden realisations are coming about. But as it is, Erwin gets back into the car and leans over to unlock the passenger door. The guy takes a few seconds of looking around himself like he's waiting for someone to suddenly spring up on him before carefully getting into the car. The guy must be looking for Jaeger, Erwin realises, probably wondering whether he's in on this somehow, but no, it is just Erwin. Just Erwin trying to subtly wipe his now sweaty palms on his trousers like he's fourteen and getting his first proper kiss all over again. The guy brings with him the faint scents of rain and cigarette smoke as well as the typical male brand shampoo that has Erwin thrown for a loop. The smells that he associate so strongly with masculinity coupled with the rather dainty frame of the prostitute in his tiny dress stokes a fire that he was unaware is smouldering in him.

“My name is Erwin Smith,” Erwin introduces himself because that is how he was raised. When he sees the small quirk of humour on the guy's face he realises that might not be exactly common behaviour when soliciting a prostitute. He quickly tries to amend, “as you know I'm a detective and a police officer, I just want to make that clear before you agree to anything.” The guy's eyebrows raises in mild surprise and the sardonic smile turns perhaps a tad shade warmer.

“Levi,” the guy introduces himself then, “and as you know I'm a hooker- I just want to make that clear before you try to buy anything.” Erwin huffs out a laugh and feels marginally more at ease. The act of smiling and laughing feels better than drinking water after running, better than falling into bed after an excruciating day of work.

“Alright Levi,” Erwin agrees, “now that we have introduced ourselves like outstanding members of society, are we to talk business?”

“What if I say no,” Levi asks, “what will you do then?”

Erwin can't help but bar out a mirthless laugh at the prospect, though now that he has calmed himself down a bit he realises just what this has to look like to Levi. “Then I'll probably drive back home to Shiganshina in mortification,” Erwin says and kneads the steering wheel to try and dislodge some of that tension that's still wrecking his body, “but I won't hold it against you in any way, shape or form.”

“You're from Shiganshina?” Levi asks with an undeniable tone of judgement that Erwin has already grown so used to in the city. Erwin just shrugs because that titbit of information really isn't all that interesting to either of them at the moment. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Levi mumbles as he rummages around in his jacket and fishes out a packet of camel. It's a new car and Erwin hadn't really wanted to get it stinking up with smoke just yet, but he's feeling nervous too and wouldn't mind having one himself. Pulling out the ashtray and pushing in the cigarette lighter on the dashboard, he signals that Levi can go right ahead.

“Mind if I bum one of you though?” Erwin asks when he remembers that he purposefully didn't put a secret stash of cigs in his new car for the express purpose that he's supposed to be quitting. Marie had said it's uncouth and not “in vogue” anymore and, really, Erwin hadn't given two shits one way or another at the time, he'd just prided himself that he could quit so easily. Now though, that's a different story. Levi looks at him with the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and a small smile quirk at the corner of his mouth again. “What?” Erwin prods, then laughs. Well, maybe it isn't customary for a customer to ask the prostitute for a cigarette _either_ now that he thinks about it.

“Nothin'” Levi mumbles, his slim fingers grabbing the dashboard lighter and getting a glow going on the smoke before he hands it over to Erwin. “I just figured you to be the health nut kind of guy- you know, jogging for thirty minutes each morning and having kale for lunch... you sure _look_ it.”

Erwin grunts as he takes his first drag of the cigarette and the smoke burns mildly on its way down to his lungs. Sure he likes working out in the morning and he doesn't mind kale, but the way Levi says it makes it sound like Erwin is the lamest person he's ever had the misfortune of running into. And considering the type of life Levi seems to live- well, the chances that he _is_ just about that boring are pretty great.

“Alright,” Levi suddenly says apropos nothing after having taken a few drags of his own cigarette. Erwin stares at him for a moment while he's trying to put together what he's referring to when the lights finally turns on in his head: Levi is accepting Erwin's proposition. Nerves tighten in the pit of Erwin's stomach and he's very fucking glad now that he has a cigarette to divert his attention to. Levi has an air of expectation around him now and Erwin supposes that he should be telling Levi what type of service that he's after. This isn't exactly a scenario he's ever envisioned in his mind and Erwin doesn't know what he can ask for- or even what he wants to ask for. Are they doing it in the car, his brand spanking new car? A blow job or a hand job or the entire... thing? Erwin isn't really sure what the entire thing even entails when it comes to another man. From what he's read and seen in movies it doesn't look pleasurable for the receiving part at all- though, Levi probably isn't here for the pleasure. Which begs the question: why is _Erwin_ even here? Revenge seems the most plausible, but he had never pegged himself for the petty kind of person. He'd always thought that if he found himself in this kind of situation he'd be rational; talk it out, solve it, be aloof and cool. But right here, right now, in his new Mercedes with a prostitute, a _male_ prostitute at that, sitting next to him waiting for some type of order, he's as far away from cool as he's ever been in his life. And yet the little thrill shooting from the pit of his stomach and up his spine has him smiling. He hasn't felt like this in... shit, he can't even remember the last time anything made him both nervous and excited like this. To go further outside of his comfort zone than he ever thought possible. Maybe he should have felt some of this about his new job and house in the city but those things had mostly just filled him with dread and apprehension. What he wants with Levi then... has to be everything, doesn't it? He wants to understand this thing burning in him, he wants to learn it and discover it completely. Map it out like a crime scene: piece for piece, clue for clue.

“You got somewhere?” Erwin inquires. What he means is a hotel that Levi might frequent and find tolerable, but Levi scrutinizes him quietly while smoking his cigarette before shrugging.

“Sure, we can go back to my place,” he says, casual as all that. Now, that should set off some alarm bells because it certainly smells like the perfect kind of set up for a mugging, but Erwin is past caring. Instead he nods his quiescence and Levi starts giving directions for how to get to his apartment building. His slim legs are bare in the small dress and March is an unforgivable month in this part of the country, Erwin has learned, so he turns the heater on full blast in the car as they drive. Levi says nothing about it, but Erwin notices how he holds his thin fingers up towards the heat and, Erwin might just be imagining it since the sound of the engine should have drowned it out, a soft sigh of contentment seems to escape the small body.

They quickly make their way from the better parts of the city and into the more derelict area where several of the ground floor shops have boards before their windows and the pristine whitewash has been exchanged with colourful graffiti. Erwin isn't all that surprised when Levi tells him that he should rather pay a bit for the basement garage connected to the 24/7 hour store rather than leave his fancy Mercedes by the curb. Erwin does as he's told and by the time he turns the ignition off, the car is warm and toasty and Levi's cheeks have flushed into a healthy red where he sits drowsily in the passenger seat. His jacket is puffed up around him and he has pulled his knees up to rest against the dashboard. Erwin is pretty certain that if they remain where they are, Levi might just fall right asleep. Cute, Erwin thinks again before he can catch himself, and he nearly chuckles at the idea that the prostitute he's about to have sex with can be so adorable.

The humour must have shown on his face because Levi frowns and grouses, “what?” before opening his door and climbing out of the car. Erwin makes sure all the doors are locked and that the dashboard lighter is off before exiting as well. Walking out of the garage together, Erwin can't help but notice Levi's size- he barely reaches Erwin to the chin and he's pretty certain Levi is clever enough to maximize his looks to the greatest monetary benefit. That Erwin's protective instincts are going off isn't a coincidence, he's pretty sure, because despite appearances Levi is an adult _man_. Or at least, that is what Erwin has been assuming... Now that the doubt has settled in him, a chill creeps up his spine and he can't let the thought go that Levi might not even be of age. The fabric of the seat in the car has left a red mark on the back of Levi's thighs and it looks so sinfully pretty Erwin has to fight the impulse to urgently look away in a misplaced sense of modesty. But Erwin is here to break the rules isn't he? Because if he's learned one thing tonight it is that rules don't apply. Not anymore. Yet there is one thing he has to make absolutely sure of:

“Can I see your ID please,” Erwin blurts and nearly cringes at what Marie tends to dub as his “ _cop voice_ ”. Levi turns and looks up at him in painfully slow movements and his brows draw into a scowl.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls and Erwin realises, once again, what this has to look like.

“Ah, sorry, I forgot to leave my work at the office,” Erwin apologises, “I'm not demanding it- I just want to make sure you're not a minor.”

“I'm not,” Levi replies decisively. They've exited the basement and Erwin tries to gauge Levi's age by the help of the dim street lights. Properly profiling someone is a part of Erwin's job as a detective, yet he's coming up short with Levi. His mannerisms speaks of an adult, though Erwin really doesn't want to come out on the other end and find that he's been wrong on this case in particular. “Holy shit man,” Levi suddenly groans, “most people try not to ruin the fantasy that they're fucking a fifteen year old.” Erwin blanches visibly at the mere thought and Levi starts patting at the pockets of his jacket while shaking his head. “You're a cop who wants to buy a hooker, but god forbid the hooker is a minor, right?” Levi says in a dry monotone. He has found his wallet and hands the ID to Erwin who accepts it gratefully. They're at the steps leading up to the apartment complex now and the dingy light in the doorway is enough to see the small typeset by. Erwin can barely believe what he sees though, and it hardly adds up to the person that stands in front of him: 12.25.1972, that's Levi's date of birth.

“You're twenty _seven_ years old?” Erwin asks incredulously. This ID has to be a fake. The picture looks like Levi though, albeit a well-combed, cherubic version with pudgy cheeks.

“Yeah, about ten more years then I intended to spend on this hellish earth, but here we are,” Levi nods as he unlocks and pulls open the door, gesticulating for Erwin to precede him.

“What did your mother feed you as a baby,” Erwin asks in wonder, “water from the spring of eternal youth?”

Levi laughs. The sound echoes and bounces back at them from the concrete walls in the lobby area and Erwin finds it to be an infectuous sound- he laughs a bit as well and it feels good. Levi lives on the fourth floor and they make the trek up in companionable silence. Despite the neighbourhood and the otherwise rather derelict appearance of the building, the hallway Levi guides him down is clean and tidy, shoes and welcome mats lined neatly by the doors that nearly all have wreaths of some kind on them. As they pass the next to last door, Levi raps a quick tattoo on it before turning to unlock the one that is at the very end. There is no wreath on this door, merely a sticker above the doorbell that announces that “Levi Ackerman” and “Isabel Magnolia” lives in the flat. Erwin ponders at the second name, but is interrupted in his musings when there's a similar rap on the door Levi just knocked on in apparent communication.

“What was that about?” Erwin wonders, though he doesn't necessarily expect an answer.

“Just telling my neighbours that I have someone over and if you kill me they should start looking for my body before I stink up the place,” Levi says matter or factly and pushes open the door into his flat. Before Erwin has time to reply to such a comment, Levi continues, “I don't usually ask Johns to come back to my place because I like it clean, but you seem alright.” And even though Erwin doesn't know the first thing about Levi, merely goes off his hunches and gut feelings, he's pretty god damned certain this is high praise coming from him and he smiles wider. Levi huffs when he sees it and starts kicking off his platform shoes and Erwin follows suit.

Now that he's out of the extra seven centimetres that the platform shoes gave him, Levi is even shorter and his dress hikes up until Erwin can see the lining of his panties when he reaches up to properly hang his jacket on the coat stand. Erwin wants to look away again, to give Levi his privacy but- that is not what they are doing here, is it? And he wants to know what it feels like to touch another man in a way he's ever touched a woman. Reaching out a hand, Erwin carefully brushes the tantalisinglining that ends just underneath the dip of Levi's ass cheek and he's surprised to find how soft Levi's skin is, but also by the undeniable firm muscle there. Levi doesn't shy away from his touch like he half expects him to, but presses back into Erwin's hand which allows him to cup Levi fully, and one cheek just about fills Erwin's hand. He squeezes it gentlyand it feels so different from what he's used to, but pleasantly so.

Having been fully intent on what his hand has been occupied with, Erwin finally looks up into Levi's face and finds him scrutinizing him in turn with a thoughtful expression. Except the dim light in the small entrance hall, the flat is dark and cold, merely illuminated by the insipid street lights that washes out all colour and gives everything deep shadows. In it, Levi looks both beautiful and otherworldly, like he's trapped in a sort of in-between state. He's young and old, feminine and masculine, real and unreal, and Erwin wants to do something he hasn't wanted to do with another person that isn't Marie in many, many years- he wants to kiss him. This is all about discovery, isn't it? He's here to find out together with someone who won't be hurt by it, who probably has had do deal with his kind more than once before. In this odd twilight place where all the rules are broken and nothing matters. Asserting his grip on Levi's ass, Erwin raises the other hand to cup the back of Levi's head to support his weight as he dips him back to allow for their mouths to connect. Levi's lips are gooey with gloss and tastes faintly of strawberry and it's such a strangely familiar sensation, Erwin has to still his gasp of surprise. After the initial contact, Levi opens his mouth to allow Erwin to explore him and he takes the opportunity. He dips his tongue into Levi's waiting mouth and he's warm and wet, tasting of cigarettes and beer and something Erwin suspects is wholly Levi. His heart is beating so hard in his chest now, he wonders if Levi can feel it.

There is nothing disagreeable in kissing another man, there are no sudden flashes of disgust when he thinks, over and over, “I'm kissing a man, I'm kissing a prostitute, I'm kissing a man.” When the pads of his fingers brushes across Levi's closely cropped hair or his thumb caresses the sharp edge of his jaw, it feels different, but it also feels good. Exhilarating even, and Erwin doesn't think that only comes from the novelty of it.

He's suspected, of course he's suspected, but it is so different to _know._ He almost wants to laugh with how good it feels.

When they finally break the kiss, Erwin needs a moment to realign himself because his head is swimming and Levi's eyes look likewise glassy for a moment before he suddenly turns around and marches into the the flat. “It's a bit cold here,” Levi excuses as he turn on the lights by the kitchen and living area, flooding the lifeless room with warm, golden light, “I wasn't really expecting guests.” He opens a cupboard and drags out a heater that he plugs in and the room is instantly filled with the vague scent of burning dust that somehow carry with it nostalgia.

“So what are your going rates?” Erwin wonders as he saunters in after Levi. The flat is... not what he had expected. Not at all. It is neat and tidy, like Levi promised, with a small kitchenette lined with outdated, bright pink tiles, a small table and two chairs standing by it. There's a colourful beaded curtain that Marie would not hesitate to call tacky and the light is reflecting in the blue, green and orange glass crystals. Something about them makes Erwin smile again because they're... _cute_. Against one wall that's not occupied with furniture are two medium sized canvases, but they're turned away so Erwin can't feed his curiosity. Does Levi paint, and what kind of artist could he be?

“Two hundred and fifty- one hundred and fifty up front, then a hundred after,” Levi rattles off the numbers as he disappears behind a door and Erwin can hear running water. The straightforwardness of Levi feels good- there's no pretences here, they both know what they're about to do and this easy transaction between them is just what he needs right now. There is no hidden agenda here, no acting.

No hidden feelings.

Pulling out his wallet, Erwin fishes out three notes and places them on an end table just as Levi exits the bathroom and eyes the money, but he doesn't comment. Instead he pads across the floor and opens the fridge, pulling out two cans of beer and motions one towards Erwin who takes it. He's surprised at the hospitality, but not ungrateful. A beer now would be the perfect thing to take the sharp edges off his nerves.

“This is your first time with a hooker I take it,” Levi says and sits down on the bed, one leg folded underneath himself. His other foot hovers a few centimetres off the floor and Erwin can't help but find it _cute_. God damn it.

“Yes, first time with a sex worker,” Erwin confirms, thankful that his many years on the force has taught him how to act calm even when he isn't. He sits down next to Levi, mindful to keep a bit of distance between them, and forces himself to confess fully, “and I've never been with another man before, either.”

Levi tilts his head as he regards Erwin and takes a long chug of his beer. “I'm not surprised,” he says, “but that's alright- it is more or less the same, dick in hole, wham bam, you're done.”

The deadpan delivery has Erwin snorting beer out of his nose and he coughs as he tries to wipe the worst of it away with the sleeve of his shirt. Stomach unknotting as the laughter still shakes him, it becomes apparent by Levi's crooked smile that he just achieved what he wanted: to put Erwin more at ease. Clever guy. Taking a few Kleenex tissues from a box on the end table, Levi gracefully throws one leg over Erwin's lap to straddle him and starts wiping at some of the beer that's still dripping down his chin and throat. The effortless intimacy feels good and Erwin trails his hands up Levi's legs and underneath the short skirt. For a guy he is pretty hairless and Erwin wonders if that's a genetic trait or if he takes the time to shave. Kneading the smooth skin and hard muscles of Levi's thighs and ass, Erwin also wonders if he would have found him this attractive if he hadn't been wearing a tiny, little dress. If his soft lips hadn't been shining with gloss and his eyes accented with eyeliner. Curious, Erwin sneaks one hand down the front of Levi's dress to feel his flat chest- the nipple he finds is taut and hard and he likes the way Levi leans into his touches. Underneath his palm, Levi's skin is still quite chill and he can feel the faint rhythm of his heart fluttering against the thorax. Is he supposed to even kiss a prostitute? Erwin doesn't know, so unless Levi tells him otherwise he leans in to steal another.

He has crossed so many lines just in the span of a few hours, and he fully intends to cross each and every one until they're all erased, never to be a part of his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ❤️
> 
> I also made an AOT twitter @pearlhartgolden so give it a follow if you want :3 It is rather empty at the moment, heh


	3. Aching Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Johns who treat it like they're making love gets on Levi's nerves. Johns who have never been with a bloke before and fiddle around makes Levi want to punch a wall. Smith carefully pulls the dress over Levi's head like he's performed this move a million times before. He looks at Levi's mostly undressed state like he's never seen anything quite like it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a hot minute, huh? Not gonna lie, it's been a rough few months for me, but Eruri brings me comfort so I am happy to finally publish this chapter. I hope it finds you all well and happy- all things considering ❤️🎇

The evening started shit. Like absolute rancid dog shit left out on a porch in the sun for a week. Levi woke up with a fever, something that tends to happen when he works too much, sleeps too little and drinks like his life depends on it. He's getting too old, that's the thing. Living like this was Levi's every day when he was younger, but Isabel has destroyed him. When she's around he always ends up working less, he tries to set a good example by going to bed at a reasonable hour and gives eating actual food a shot. Having a beer for breakfast with a fourteen year old around isn't ideal. He's growing soft with her around.

Any motivation that he had to work is murdered in cold blood when he steps off the bus and is met with the snow-mingled rain. The obnoxious drag queens out for the Glam Gala at Pride Maria are just the last nail in the coffin. It just isn't his scene anymore, Levi comes to realise, when the music gives him a headache and Flagon, aka Connie Fidence, demands Levi's blow job as a reward if she wins first prize in the swimsuit competition. Sneaking out the back exit before anyone grabs a hold of him to make the deal a reality, Levi plans to enjoy a cigarette in relative solitude before cutting the evening short. That's when Erwin Smith, straight detective extraordinaire, hails him from his fancy car. Levi wants nothing so much as to get out of the murdering cold and Smith's car sure looks inviting. It _really_ doesn't hurt that the owner of said car is just the kind of guy that makes Levi's knees a little wobbly. Strictly off the record, of course. When he curls up in the passenger seat in the car that still smells brand new and notices Smith wiping his large hands free of sweat he knows that this is going to turn into work. He doesn't mind it one bit.

Now Smith is kissing him like a lover and Levi is letting him. He's a good kisser and Levi is tired and who actually gives a shit if he can't really bring himself to think bad of this John? He smells clean, looks clean, has the clearest, bluest eyes Levi has ever seen and looks good in a suit. As Johns go he's too good to be true and Levi is half expecting to be choked to death at any moment, but on the other hand... He knows from experience that lucking out on a John like this is one in a million deal, and Levi has never been lucky. The money is already on his night stand, more than he asked for, even, and Smith is undoing the buttons on the back of the dress Levi stole from Isabel.

_John Smith_. Levi isn't even all that drunk anymore but it makes him chuckle and he rests his forehead against Smith's sizeable shoulder as he waits patiently to be undressed. Smith kisses his temple, then he kisses his cheek, his neck, his shoulder while he pushes the fabric away. Levi shivers. It is intimate, but it feels good.

Johns who treat it like they're making love gets on Levi's nerves. Johns who have never been with a bloke before and fiddle around makes Levi want to punch a wall. Smith carefully pulls the dress over Levi's head like he's performed this move a million times before. He looks at Levi's mostly undressed state like he's never seen anything quite like it. Levi doesn't mind his body, it is a bit thinner now than it used to be, but it is a good body. It tends to do what he tells it to. Before that blue gaze Levi feels bared in a different way and he squirms in Smith's lap and is surprised to feel the rhythmic pulse of a hardening erection trapped in those dark suit trousers. Why is he surprised? Smith came to him after all, seeking to solicit a male hooker. There is just something so straight edged about him, despite Levi having learned early on that it takes all types in this profession.

Putting his mind decisively back to work, Levi starts undoing the buttons of Smith's pale, grey shirt. There's not a single crease to be found on it even though he suspects Smith must have been wearing it all day and that... is pretty hot. Levi lets his hands trail down the fine fabric and he just can't help thinking that it looks good stretched over Smith's chest. He has to be working out and eating truckloads of kale, Levi affirms to himself, because he certainly doesn't compare to the cops that view doughnuts as the height of nutrition. Brushing the shirt back and down from Smith's shoulders, Levi leans in to kiss the firm pectorals a few times before undoing the cuffs at the wrists and taking the entire piece of clothing off. Not about to be the one to wrinkle the shirt, Levi gets up and carefully drapes it over the chair by the bed. Smith looks marginally more relaxed out of his clothes, though he's still more dressed than Levi- which is par for the course.

It is in Levi's experience the naked intimacy with another man that scares men the first few times they try it. There are a lot of walls to break down and the older they are the first time they do it, the more intimidating they find it. But right here and now, between Smith and Levi, Smith is the one in power and that in more ways than one. He's larger of course, more sober and a cop. Levi believes Smith when he says that he won't hold it against Levi if he turned down the proposition, but there's no need to antagonize a cop. Especially not one that's Jaeger's partner, of all things.

Moving back to Smith who is waiting for him on the bed, the detective keeps looking at Levi like he's searching for something. Like there's a question he really needs an answer to and only Levi can provide it. The golden band on Smiths's finger reveals his marital status. Levi isn't one to judge, he honestly cannot summon up enough shits to give about other people's problems, but Smith is definitely going through something. Whatever it is, Levi is getting paid and he gets to do it in the comfort of his own home for once. Everybody gets sick of their jobs once in a while and Levi is at that point where kneeling on bathroom floors and getting fucked in cars is scraping his nerves raw. He needs a break, to just focus on his art for a while and start over. Get some of his energy back.

Smith's hands are roaming freely across Levi's body now and he seems more boldly aware of his position and Levi's consent. He's wonderfully warm and Levi tries to suppress a feverish shiver when Smith pushes his fingers under the waistband of his bright, yellow panties (a birthday gift from Petra of all people), and slowly pulls them down. While he is standing up and Smith is sitting down, Levi is barely taller than the other man, and he can't help but notice just how good his hair smells. His panties drop down and pool around his ankles and Levi is fully nude now. The room is still chilly, but thankfully quickly warming up with the both of them in the small flat and the heater on. Smith laps a hot, wet trail across Levi's collarbone while his hands flutter up and down his sides and thighs, apparently with the intent purpose of touching every available inch that he can reach. It isn't unpleasant, really, it's just been too long since anyone touched Levi like this, John be damned- none of Levi's last few boyfriends could be bothered to take the time, either. With a practised move, Smith folds his arms around Levi's hips and easily shifts him around and onto the bed where he puts him down. Levi is taken somewhat by surprise since Smith had seemed a bit wary, a tad uncertain of how to proceed with a man, but there's a glint in his crystal blue eyes now that has Levi's own stomach heat up. Smith carefully removes the panties from around Levi's ankles and the bed dips when the larger man gets up to undress himself. Unabashed, Levi leans back up on his elbows since he is not about to give the detective any privacy as he undresses. If Smith's upper body is that well sculpted, then Levi really wants to know what else this cop got going for him.

Smith catches him watching and hesitates with his hands on his belt, though only for a second, before his lips pull back into a lopsided smile that can only be described as cocky and unbuckles it. His finely pressed trousers and boxers go in one smooth movement and Levi doesn't even have to pretend to be interested in what he sees. Licking his lips and now sitting fully up on his knees, Levi motions for Smith to come closer, which he does, a quiet chuckle leaving him as he does so. It doesn't really sound arrogant, merely pleased, and when Levi presses his lips to the tip of his more than half-hard cock, Smith cards his fingers through Levi's hair and massages his scalp. Levi nearly moans as he feels some of the tension in his neck leaving him... _fuck_ , those are some nice hands.

A few strokes of Levi's hand around Smith's cock and some light licking and sucking and Smith is fully hard and Levi realises that he'll have his job cut out for him, but he doesn't really mind. There's just going to be this one John tonight, after all.

“Any thoughts on how you want to do this?” Levi asks and looks up at Smith from where he's kneeling. The detective's taut abdominal muscles are covered by a trail of thick flaxen hair and Levi can't resist brushing his hand through it and almost smiles when Smith tightens his muscles in response. Ticklish.

“I want to take my time with you,” Smith replies, and the heat suddenly gracing Levi's cheeks has nothing to do with the fever. Fuck, isn't he too old to fall for that kind of shit?

“Take all the time you want,” Levi says, “though if you exceed an hour I'm gonna be charging extra.”

“I'll be sure to cover any overtime,” Erwin grins and motions for Levi to lay back down, which he does somewhat gratefully. The fever is making his joints feel swollen and he's slightly winded. Smith's hands are back on his body, seemingly intent on their path of discovery, dipping into every crease, caressing every inch of skin, brushing across the sensitive areas and massaging his muscles. Levi really couldn't say what he's looking for in his determined search, only that the rapt attention on his face has Levi's cheeks burning hot. When Smith replaces his hands with his tongue, Levi has to stifle a gasp. The soft edges of booze is quickly fading away and usually the unforgiving sobriety sends Levi cascading down into a too familiar depression. He tends to make sure that he's asleep before it happens, but now the soft waves of alcohol are being replaced by a mounting tingling in his entire body. There are always those men who enjoy touching him and delight in his body, but usually those Johns take too long and grate on Levi's nerves. He wants to tell Smith that they're not there to be intimate, that this transaction is for the detective to get his jimmies off, but when Levi looks down and finds him so studiously at work, he just can't bring himself to. So fucking what if he takes some enjoyment out of a John now and again? Sometimes you just gotta get some perks with the job. Why not?

Smith kisses a trail down Levi's stomach, grabs his thighs and spreads them with only a cursory glance at Levi's face to see whether he's okay with it and Levi has to bite down on another cynical smile. _You paid for this Smith_ , he wants to say, but he doesn't because that's not what Smith wants to hear right now. This is his first time with a man. Levi has been a lot of firsts for a lot of people and he isn't unfamiliar with it. Usually they tend to like doing it from behind, anonymously, fully clothed, and then they leave with either the most awestruck or the most crushed expression. More often than not all they want is a blow job; it is easier to explain away since it's just head, doesn't matter if its from a boy or a girl. Right?

But Smith is taking his time, apparently fully intent on discovering just what it is that he wants.

What Levi really isn't used to anymore is the tightness in his gut and how his own dick is twitching to attention. Smith's tongue is clever, it dips into the hollow by Levi's hip, leaves a slick trail of saliva across his inner thigh, seems to forever circle in on his still hardening erection. With a brow furrowed in concentration, eyes narrowed slightly and a contemplative _hmm_ that nearly has Levi laughing again, Smith wraps a hand around the base of Levi's dick and tentatively opens his mouth to place his lips to the head, mimicking Levi's earlier move. For a moment he has the look of someone who tries to place a taste that they know they've had before, but can't quite remember. When Smith opens his mouth further and sucks in the entire head, Levi can't help but raise back up on his elbows again to get a better look at what is going on. This John is intent on sucking his dick, apparently, and even more obviously: he's never done it before. Yet Levi can't fault a single thing because the focus and singleminded determination Smith's applying to the task makes up for whatever he lacks in finesse.

Smith quickly discovers that shoving a dick down your throat is a job that demands a bit of practice and eases up, instead applying his hands generously for which Levi is thankful. Choking on dick is hot and all, when you know what you're doing, otherwise it can quickly become a concerning endeavour for both parties involved. Feeling that Smith deserves to be encouraged, Levi carefully picks up the lock of golden hair that's fallen loose across his forehead and pushes it back to card his fingers across Smith's scalp. The ministrations has the detective look up and Levi's heart stutters to a stop before accelerating again and really, those eyes should be illegal.

Slowly, Smith takes his mouth off Levi and while their eyes are still locked, he says seriously, “sucking cock is hard, in more ways than one.”

Levi is silent for a couple of heartbeats before falling down on the bed again with a sigh of defeat. “You're killing my boner,” he groans and he can both feel and hear Smith's breathy laugh. On the one hand, Levi wants to knee him in the head, on the other hand, he wants Smith to say cock again, because Levi doesn't think he's ever heard it said prettier than in that weird little bumpkin lilt of his. Leaning over, Levi uses the broken spell to open his bedside drawer and pulls out a few strings of condoms. Some are strawberry flavoured, some are latex, some are not, he got a plethora to choose from.

“What's your size?” Levi inquires, cocking his head as he regards Smith's impressive girth, “magnum or grand?”

“So, how does this happen...?” Smith asks, ignoring Levi's questions and moves to hover over Levi instead. There's a light sheen of perspiration on his chest and a lustre of excitement in his eyes. The position has the muscles in his arms bulging and Levi allows himself to squeeze a bicep in appreciation. Firm.

“Usually there would be some preparations and such, but since that's already taken care of there really isn't much for you to think about,” Levi murmurs before looking down at Smith's sizeable endowment again and raises an eyebrow, “though I'd like it if you took it slow to begin with.”

Used as he is to men behaving in a certain way when given such an obvious compliment to their package, Levi is amused when Smith merely nods like he's heard it all before.

“I hope you don't mind us doing it like this- even if it is a bit boring,” Smith says, indicating their missionary position, “but I want to see you.”

Again, Levi wants to remind Smith that he's paying for this so if he wants to do it in the dark with the covers between them, that's his choice, but that lock of hair has fallen loose again and Smith's cheeks are stained red and Levi can feel his own erection twitch against his stomach and- fuck it, this shit is good and maybe he finally got the break he deserves.

“That's fine,” he replies instead, and he can hear his own breathlessness. The detective kisses Levi then, long and searingly on the lips and he tastes like peppermint, smokes and Levi's own musk. It shouldn't be as good as it is, Levi shouldn't have to fight that moan back. Usually he has to fake them, now he's instinctively drawing back and into himself, wanting to hide how much he's enjoying this.

Give it a fucking break, he tells himself with no little amount of exasperation.

So, Levi gasps loudly when Smith lines up and start to slowly push in, he whines when the stretch feels impossible and sweat breaks out all over his body, he moans when Smith slowly, slowly, enters him until he's completely bottomed out and Levi doesn't think he's ever felt so full before. Smith's eyes are watching every movement and expression on Levi's face with rapt attention and Levi thinks he can feel every inch of his body come alive. In the end he lets out the hot air on the tail end of a sigh...

“You feel amazing,” Smith hums into Levi's ear and Levi can feel him quivering with the strain it takes to hold himself still, to let Levi get used to him.

Levi is used to being in pain, he doesn't really care about it much anymore, but now all he feels is pleasure and he lets Erwin know by clutching at his shoulders, tightening his thighs around his side, stretching out his legs and throwing his head back in a silent moan. He has to spread so wide to accommodate Smith's body that the bones in his hips ache, but it is that _good_ ache, and when Erwin grips his upper thighs to hold Levi still as he carefully pulls out and pushes back in, Levi places the back of his hand across his mouth to still the sounds he's about to make.

Swearing softly at the involuntary action, Levi consciously moves the hand to clutch at Smith's back instead, the other he curls into the sheets underneath him.

Smith makes him moan, loud, when he realises that he does not have to be quite so tender- or perhaps his self discipline finally snaps, because his pace picks up and Levi's entire body is set on fire. Every nerve tingles and his muscles quivers, there are goosebumps covering every inch of his skin and Levi arches up, clutches at Smith like his life depends on it. Through lashes softened and blurred by either sweat or tears, Levi doesn't know, he peers at the man above him who seems larger than life. Whatever reservations the cop might have had in regards to fucking another man appears to be completely forgotten. The broad and warm hands cradle under Levi's neck and around his shoulders, holding him securely in place to the point where there is little more he can do but relax into it. The tentative care and hesitancy has vanished from Smith, his eyes shining bluer than ever, and where Levi tries to hide his stare beneath his lashes there are no such reservations from Smith. He is taking in his fill of Levi slowly unravelling underneath him and Levi wonders fleetingly if the look on his face is the same as when he solves a difficult case; brows slightly creased, a feverish shine to his eyes, shapely lips parted. The distance between them is becoming dangerously short- it is not the physical distance.

There is a reason why Levi works the job that he does, there is a reason he wears tiny skirts and fucks strangers in cars. He likes to be seen. It is a little known fact about him and Smith's eyes are lighting an inferno in the pit of his stomach that is quickly travelling to his balls and cock, pulling and tightening until Levi can do nothing but throw his head back against the mattress and moan.

Smith is not careful anymore. The snap of Smith's hips sends jolts through Levi's body and he can't help it, he just needs this so much right now, he angles himself just right for Smith to hit the spot and prays that he'll continues to slam into him just so.

“Harder?” Smith asks and his deep tenor has the hairs on Levi's arms stand on end.

Levi nods and manages to moan a sweet, “yeah.” It isn't especially professional, he should be putting on more of a show, talk more perhaps, but his entire conscious is taken up by the big cock inside him, the hands cradling him and those eyes that won't relent in their scrutiny. But even those fleeting thoughts disappear once Smith complies to the wish and a groan of pure pleasure is forced out of Levi. It even surprises himself, but then that too disappears into the haze of being fucked so hard and perfectly.

It could be aeons or it could be seconds, Levi doesn't know, but the tension is building in his abdomen and the white heat envelopes his mind, travelling down his spine, making him tight and hot, teetering him on the edge and just as he topples over it he wonders that he could at all cum like this. So unprepared and in fucking missionary of all things, but it is so good. The type of bone deep orgasm that has him arching into Smith shouting as his cock jerks between them, splattering them both in cum and fuck it, they've gotten this far, so Levi opens his eyes again to take in Smith. He looks slightly surprised, but mostly wholly aroused and the undisguised response to Levi's state on his face coupled with the continuous pounding against Levi's oversensitive spot is just too delicious.

Perhaps he's digging his nails deep enough into Smith's back and shoulder to leave marks- and maybe, though most definitely, he's being loud enough that Petra will have to turn up the television to drown it out.

Smith's hold is nearly painful now in his own abandon and the disregard of Levi's body as he loses himself in him is mind-blowing.

Levi doesn't know what happens immediately after they've both spilled. His mind is blanking out into a delicious white buzz. Vaguely he notices that Smith is pulling out and dealing with the condom, but he doesn't care, busy riding out the high of complete physical satisfaction. Evened out and quiet. The world can wait for a few moments.

It isn't until Smith brushes away a bit of the matted hair from Levi's forehead that he stirs to, suddenly painfully aware that he's supposed to be at work. But Smith doesn't appear to be either flustered or annoyed by Levi's sudden lapse, rather, he looks like a man who has had a grand revelation and the miracle is still right in front of him. When Levi untangles his limbs from Smith and pulls away slightly, the spell he's under breaks and the detective smiles a pretty, though abashed, smile.

“I didn't know men could- you know,” Smith gestures vaguely at his own crotch and then the semen splattered across the both of them, “without any further stimulation of the head.”

Levi shrugs and his mouth pulls back into something that is half a sly smile and a rueful grin. The muscles behind his ears feel sore and Levi realises that this is perhaps the most he's smiled or laughed in one evening in quite some time. The realisation sobers him up and after a couple of false starts he manages to get out of bed, intent on finding something to clean them both up with.

“It doesn't really happen to me all that often, no,” Levi reveals and again Smith merely nods like he's mentally compartmentalising the information rather than receiving the obvious praise that it is. Shaking his head in bemusement, Levi makes his way into the bathroom to clean up. Bringing a moistened towel back, he finds Smith sitting up in his bed, leaning against the wall and resting an elbow on one knee as he takes in the small, shitty flat. Levi doesn't mind where he lives most of the time, but Smith sort of doesn't fit into it with his immaculate hair and nice suit. Throwing the towel towards him, Smith catches it deftly and hums a thank you. Maybe Levi should be putting a lid on his usually so prickly nature in order to entice a return customer, but he figures that a person who just made him scream while he came won't be easily fooled.

“So you're a painter too?” Smith wonders and nods his head towards the stack of canvases.

“Hm, yeah...” Levi mutters absently, picking up his pack of Camels and zip lighter from the kitchen table. He can almost feel the questions that Smith wants to ask him, his mouth working but not opening as they race through his mind. Probably things like “ _you can't be a very good artist if you have to work as a hooker on the side,_ ” or something inane like, “ _have you ever been shown in a gallery?_ ” Thankfully the detective keeps his mouth firmly shut, rather focusing on cleaning himself up instead.

Opening the window only takes a bit of effort today despite the chilly temperature outside having nearly glued it shut the entire winter. Perhaps it means spring is finally around the corner. Balmy evenings still seem a long way away when the full blast of late night air hits Levi's nude body. Sitting down on the wide, padded sill, Levi feels warm now despite the frigid chill- it comes from the inside out and he welcomes it as he works on getting his fag lit. He hopes the warmth will last at least for a short while longer. The first drags of the cigarette after a good fuck is heaven and Levi barely manages to stifle the groan of satisfaction. He's been unusually vocal today, he notes absently. Normally he'd want to kick the John out as quickly as possible, but now he finds that he doesn't mind the companionable silence much. Goes to show how far a good dick can get you.

“Aren't you concerned that someone could see you?” Smith wonders.

Raising and eyebrow, Levi peers up at a specific window of the building opposite and finds the usual suspect right away. That fucker shows up like clockwork every time there is a light on in Levi's flat. He's standing by the window, staring right down at him, his mouth open and eyes wide. He'll probably be busting a nut in a moment. Levi shows him the finger.

“I don't really give a fuck if they do,” Levi replies, “though good old Mr Icabod across the street here should start paying me money for all the free shows he's been getting.”

Smith gets up from bed and moves over to the window, the chill air making the golden hair on his arms stand on end and his nipples harden. Levi can't help but look at him, he can't believe how attracted he is to this John. Said John leans over Levi, the heat of his skin and the vague smell of sweat and cologne making Levi shiver more than the open window does, and looks up at the offending man.

“Be glad he hasn't filed a suit against you yet,” Smith warns. Mr Icabod's facial expression doesn't even change when he spots the second addition to his voyeur party.

“Why would he file a suit,” Levi huffs and stumps out his cigarette, “it's my flat, I can do what I want in it.”

“Not really,” Smith hums with a small smile as he turns away from the man, his attention back on Levi, “in this city it is illegal to wilfully expose people to nudity, even if it is in ones own home.”

“That's idiotic,” Levi groans, “if they don't wanna watch, all they can do is not fucking look.”

Smith is still standing there, leaning over Levi, their bodies so close together they're just a hair's breadth away from touching and Levi can't help but let his eyes travel. When he finds Smith's cock already hardening, the implications of it has his own blood rushing downwards in a way Levi vaguely remembers from his teen years. Detective Smith's attention is drawn to it as well and his kiss swollen lips draw back into something Levi can only describe as a pleased grin. So the fucker can be smug, after all. Those same lips then connects with Levi's once again- they're warm and eager and Levi fancies that he can feel the slow thrum of a heartbeat in them. He really should be telling this John to lay off the kisses, to set some boundaries between them, but honestly he can't be fucked. It feels good. They're good kisses.

When Smith draws back again the chill from the open window suddenly become oppressing and immediate. Levi jumps down from the sill and keeps half an eye on Smith who is walking back to the night stand while also trying to get the window closed again. Of course it has gotten stuck, as it does every time, and Levi stretches up on tip-toe to better put his back into it as he wiggles it loose again. Feeling that gaze tear at him, Levi returns his attention to Smith who is watching him avidly, his eyes burning with raw hunger. The way he moves, the way he wraps an arm around Levi and starts kissing and nibbling his neck belies the initial uncertainty and hesitation. There is nothing left of the man who with sweaty palms picked Levi up earlier that evening. Levi can't complain, actually he quite enjoys feeling the broad chest against his back, those warm hands brushing over his abdomen and boldly seizing his already hard member again.

Yet he can't help the niggling thought that most men who goes from thinking they're a hundred percent straight to happily fucking men would spend a bit more time getting to the other end. Smith having lied about all that seems absurd, considering their positions in power, but when Smith bends him over the sill and Levi feels the promising nudge of a cock against his opening, all such thoughts go straight out of head.

“Don't think you get anything for free just because you made me scream,” Levi quips and stifles a gasp when Smith easily lifts his hips up to better position himself.

“I will of course compensate you for your excellent work,” Smith murmurs and punctuates it with a trail of kisses down Levi's neck and upper spine.

Levi wants to reply something snide, but Smith silences him when he breaches the entrance and Levi's full attention is on bearing the stretch that still, even after everything, feels like it is a little bit too much. Bracing himself against the window and sill, Levi is once again held firmly in place by Smith's large, steady hands, but standing bent over on his tiptoes makes it difficult to relax and Levi can feel every inch as Smith's cock slowly pushes into him.

“Are you good, Levi?” Smith breathes, a tint of genuine concern on his voice. Levi's entire body has a light sheen of perspiration from bearing the heavy sensation that boarders on pain, but leaves only pleasure behind.

“Yeah, I'm very good,” Levi manages to reply, satisfied that he kept himself from ending it on a moan.

That sound is, however, forced out of him only a short moment later when Smith pulls back slightly before pushing all the way in with an audible slap of skin against skin. This time Smith doesn't spend any time before he sets a heavy and brutal rhythm that has Levi squirming and gasping, glad to remember that they just came- meaning Smith will probably have the stamina to keep this up for quite some time.

And he does, he certainly does.

Just as Levi thinks that he wants this to last forever while he at the same time ache with the need to come, Smith leans over and whispers breathlessly into his ear, “I want you to come for me again. I want to feel you, hear you.”

It is an easy directive to follow. Levi's hand is trembling slightly from the exertion, but he wraps it around his long neglected dick and hums at how good that feels. When Smith's much larger hand then wraps around the base of it, he can't help but jerk into it. Smith holds still for a while, allowing Levi to set his own pace, impaling himself on that large cock while working into the firm grip, his own fingers twisting around the head just the way he likes it. It really doesn't take long before he's twitching and moaning, holding onto Smith with his available hand, feeling his hard chest against his back, the hot and laboured breath against his neck, seeing himself like this in the reflective window. The climax hits Levi and even if he had wanted to, Levi can't let out the shout that's stuck in his chest, left only to gasp after the burning hot air as stars flashes before his eyes.

Through the thrumming in his ears, Levi can barely hear Smith's shuddering words, “you're amazing,” and he wonders if he might be dreaming them.

It isn't until Levi hangs limp in Smith's arms that he realises that Smith finished too. He slowly pulls out and removes the condom while Levi sinks down on the pillow on the sill, noting idly that there's cumstains all over it now. He's been coming all over the place- what is is he, fourteen again?

“If your neighbour doesn't file a suit against you now, he never will,” Smith comments off-handedly as he walks over to the kitchen area and correctly locates the bin underneath the sink. Levi notes that his legs are quivering slightly, though the physical exertion seems to have taken less off Smith than they have of Levi. Maybe he's getting old, Levi muses, old in the game if this is enough to leave him so exhausted. Then again, it has been a while since he came twice in one hour. Perhaps he's just not used to it anymore.

Remembering Icabod across the street, Levi peers up at the flat opposite, but the man is gone. Perhaps he finished his business too and went to clean up, or perhaps he's off to make a call to the police. Shrugging internally, Levi eyes the cigarettes on the table but the effort of opening the window again just seems too much. Smith is making himself at home, taking down a glass from the cabinet and pouring himself a glass of water from the sink.

“Do you want some too?” he asks casually and Levi is too surprised to do anything but hum in acceptance. This is feeling less and less like work and more like a hookup, but Levi wasn't planning on any hookup- that wasn't their deal. Accepting the glass handed to him, he drinks it in one go while watching Smith from the corner of his eye. He's getting dressed, pulling on his trousers and his shirt that still doesn't have a crease on it. Levi wants to get some clothes too, but he knows his body well enough that the jelly that is now his legs won't be carrying him anywhere. Instead he snaps his fingers to get Smith's attention and points at the t-shirt that's hanging over the end of the bed. Smith dutifully hands it to him without commenting before pulling out his wallet again. Easily, like it is nothing to him at all, he pulls another three notes out of it and leaves them on top of those already on the night stand. That's enough money to pay the rent and keep Isabel fed for another month.

And suddenly like a deep, yawning maw- there is the divide between them.

Once Smith leaves, Levi remains seated on the sill listening to the low drone of Petra's television through the wall.

Somehow Levi must have showered and fallen asleep in his bed since that is where he finds himself early the next morning. This time it's the phone that disturbs him and after a hazy minute of trying to navigate the living room, it turns out to be Furlan. There's really no better proof that he's straightened out his life than calling people at fucking eight a.m. in the morning. Levi remembers very well a time when Furlan could be declared legally dead until about three in the afternoon. One time the fire alarm had gone off and when Levi woke to a flat filled with smoke he realised quickly that the pizza they'd decided to make never really got taken out of the oven. Furlan, however, had been impossible to rouse and Levi had been forced to carry his sorry ass out of the building. Thankfully that was long before Isabel joined their little dysfunctional family.

“Yeah, what?” Levi mutters into the receiver. He doesn't have a hangover for once, but waking up never agrees with him regardless of the circumstances.

“Good morning,” Furlan chirps and Levi barely manages to keep himself from smashing the receiver against the wall. “I'm just calling about Isabel.”

“I'm supposed to pick her up at the train station at four, like always.” This has always been how they do it, why is Furlan suddenly calling? Despite himself, Levi feels slightly apprehensive.

“Yes, about that...” Furlan begins and Levi can hear the faint voice of Isabel in the background before Furlan shushes her. “She'd like to stay another week.”

Levi doesn't really have anything to say to that. What is there to say? _Come back home Isabel, I am cold and hungry and I need your all too loud company?_ No, fuck that. Probably for the best, anyway. This way Levi can work the nights and save up some more money before going back to painting full-time. Yeah. Definitely for the best...

“Alright.”

He hangs up before Furlan bleats out whatever else he has to say. Of course Isabel would rather stay at Furlan and his girlfriend's- their flat is huge and boasts a deep hot tub and proper heating. If Levi could choose- _he'd_ want to stay there, too. Only issue being that Furlan's girlfriend hates his guts and he's far from welcome, hence why he has to pick Isabel up at the train station.

There's a knock on the entrance door to the flat that sounds suspiciously like a kick. A kick from a foot without a shoe on. Levi is sorely tempted to let Eren hang around out there until he gives up, but knows from experience that in such a battle of will the outcome is far from certain. Unlocking the chain and opening the door, a huge, blue bowl followed by said small human enters his flat.

“Hi, Levi!” Eren crows and the pads of his feet patter across the floor, hitting every creak, before he halts in front of the television where he plops down. There is expectations written large on his small face, though his overly bright eyes are rimmed red again. Even though the bowl he's holding is nearly as large as his head, it is only filled about one quarter with brightly coloured cereal and milk.

“Should you be having that much sugar this early in the morning?” Levi grouses at him, but obediently leans over to switch on the television. The remote is long since gone (may or may not have been thrown out the window by Isabel during a tantrum). “What d'you wanna watch?”

“Transformers!” Eren declares, his plastic spoon ready to go.

“Only if you can remember to eat properly,” Levi sighs and flips through the channels until the right combinations of migraine inducing sounds and colours flashes across the screen. Levi had been planning on making himself a cup of coffee, but now that he has his small guest he decides on putting on a kettle to make some tea instead.

The kettle is just done whistling when a strawberry blonde head pokes through the crack in the door with an inquiring, “have you seen Eren about, Levi?” floats in.

Without answering the question, Levi reaches up into the cupboard and grabs Petra's usual mug, the pink one, and places it next to his own and Eren's, the plastic one. Petra quickly locates Eren on her own since there is no way she didn't know this is where her wayward charge always ends up when he wanders alone, and steps into the flat like she belongs to it. At this point there's no point arguing their free use of his space anymore. Actually, they should just remove the wall between the flats and get it all done with. He's not actually in a bad mood, but his chest aches and his head throbs dully with the remainder of the fever. He wishes he got more sleep.

“I don't know who gave him the impression that coming in here at eight in the morning to watch cartoons is okay,” Levi tells Petra when she steps up to him and grabs her usual cup of tea.

“Might be you,” Petra says and rolls her eyes slightly, blowing at the steam in her cup, “what with you allowing him in here and letting him do whatever he wants.”

“You're one to talk.”

“You can protest all you want, _I_ know you have a soft spot for him.” A sigh escapes Petra as they both watch Eren happily munching his cereal, nearly choking when he's forced to yell excitedly at whatever is happening on the screen at the same time.

“How many nights have he stayed at yours now?” Levi asks quietly into his own mug, making absolutely sure that Eren isn't listening in.

Petra remains silent for a long while, fiddling with the chipped handle of her cup. “Five nights, counting last night.” Her reply is both hushed and rushed and she nearly winces at the end of it, preparing for Levi's inevitable backlash. And really, he should yell at her, but at this point the too familiar sense of helplessness settles in his gut. He knew it would be this way all along, the only one pretending it wasn't going to end up like this was Petra and even she must be seeing the clear realities of their situation now.

“You can't afford to be a parent to this kid,” Levi says, trying but failing at keeping the harshness out of his voice, “he already has a parent and, as far as I'm aware, he earns a shitton more than you do.”

“It's not about money!” Petra bites back, her temper flaring and her hazel eyes shooting daggers at Levi. “You know about that shit better than anyone.” Any will Levi had to fight evaporates like a gust of rotten wind and he merely shrugs. By the television Eren has fallen silent and he eyes them with a wary expression on his face. “Whatever, Levi,” Petra sighs again and capitulates, “I'll go and make us some proper breakfast. Why don't you keep Eren company-” leaning in close, she whispers into Levi's ear, “-he cried again all last night, I think he really needs some comfort, you know?”

With that last monumental task handed over to Levi, Petra steps out of the flat and into her own, presumably to get the promised breakfast. It better be something really tasty, Levi grouses to himself as he turns towards Eren who tries his very best to pretend like the cartoons has his entire attention. For a five year old he's a good actor, but when Levi sits down next to him on the floor the kid just can't stop wiggling and for once Levi just doesn't have it in him to tell him to sit still. Frowning, he tries to keep up with the cartoon, but somewhere along the way the robot-cars have also turned into animals. In the end he gives up and questions the resident expert, “so... why are they animals now?”

“It is the Beast Wars, duh!” Eren sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes in a way that is more than a little reminiscent of Petra. “I really want Silverbolt for my birthday, y'know? He's way coolest! Which one is your favourite?”

Thankfully, Levi is saved from answering by Petra returning, holding a huge BLT sandwich in each hand. They finish breakfast and tea sitting on the floor in front of the television, Eren excitedly narrating everything that's happening on the show, as well as all the other shows he's ever watched apparently. Somewhere in the cascading torrent of disjointed information, Levi rests his head on the bed behind them and drifts off to sleep. A soft, feminine hand brushes through his hair, but he's too tired to comment on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's share a toast to a new and, hopefully, brighter future.


	4. Dirty Stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Out of his dress and make up he looks more his age, though tired and worn and Erwin would have liked to find some comforting words, a gesture that could ease that furrow on his brow, but that is assuming way too much. They don't really know each other. They've fucked, sure, and that was great, but Erwin reminds himself that his distorted relations to casual sex isn't the same as Levi's._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone are doing good ♥ Stay strong.

The desktop has three burn marks on it. Using his fine analytical skills, Erwin deduces that they are indeed cigarette burns. He's been staring at said desktop since he got to work early that morning and it is now- oh, if the endless prattle of those around him is anything to go by: around lunchtime. No one has talked to him as of yet, only offered hasty greetings in passing which he has returned unenthusiastically. They probably think he's the type of person who shouldn't be disturbed when in a bad mood. Erwin has never gone to work in a bad mood before, always a firm believer of leaving personal business at home. But now? Fuck that. All the rules he so painstakingly followed has been thrown out the window, by Marie, by _him_. Again, Erwin's mind is forced back to last Friday and what he's done. A shiver runs down his spine, his stomach turns and he has to brush a sweat soaked hand across his mouth to keep from grinning like an absolute idiot. His mind is nothing but chaos. His heart is broken into a million pieces by the love of his life, and yet he can't remember ever having felt this excited, this happy. Maybe that Friday tipped him over the edge because he certainly doesn't feel sane. There's a wholly different Erwin sitting behind his desk now and he feels like an impostor. Erwin Smith was a valedictorian, he captained his football team, he married his high school sweetheart... he left for the city and a promising new career. This Erwin? He fucked a male prostitute and loved it.

Levi. What an experience _that_ had been. It felt like he'd discovered sex all over again. It has been years and years since he slept with someone that wasn't Marie and even though he'd thought their sex life pretty healthy... well- she hadn't thought so, obviously. And now Erwin can't get Levi out of his mind. It might just be the shock he's riding on that's keeping him upright at the desk right now. He hasn't really done any work, per say, only moved a dossier from one end of the desk to the other, then back again. He just can't focus. It feels like he's burning, freezing and breaking all at the same time. The weekend had moved like sluggish swamp water, pulling him under and leaving him unresponsive and unmoving. He'd told Marie he had to work on some papers and locked himself in the study, only to stare out the window most of the day and night. Looking at her hurts, mostly because all he wants to do is hold her, to feel her in his arms again like he used to. To know that might never happen again hurts in a way that leaves his nerves raw.

A shadow falls over him and Erwin looks up at the towering figure before him. A moustache twitches either in annoyance or humour, Erwin isn't completely sure, then Mike smacks another file down on his desk.

“You look sick,” Mike declares without any further ado, “went drinking last night?”

Erwin raises his eyebrows marginally. This is perhaps the most personal Mike has ever gotten with him, a stark contrast to the rest of his colleagues who are tiptoeing around him, giving him wary glances. Taking the file instead of answering Mike's question, Erwin opens it only to be met with gruesome pictures of a murdered body. That it is a murder is easy to deduce by the incriminating detail of the body missing a _head_. Well then.

“How is the victim associated with the Reiss?” Erwin asks Mike. There's no name in the file yet and it will take a while to get the body identified. Just as the murderer intended. But the particulars of the case informs him beyond a shadow of a doubt that they're dealing with a serial killer. This is not the first headless body he's seen.

“We don't know yet,” Mike hums, “the body was fished out of the river only some four hours ago.”

“Why haven't we been called in?” Erwin snaps. His earlier haze is all but evaporating, already being replaced by purpose and years of experience in the field.

“You were, but Jaeger said you were dealing with some personal business so he went in alone.” There's some colour on Mike's face like he's bracing himself for the backlash he's about to receive. But Erwin knows better than to shoot the messenger. Instead he takes a deep breath and looks closer at the pictures. The autopsy will reveal more details, but so far the pictures tells him that the bloated body must have been in water for quite some time if they take the cold snap into consideration. The skin of the cut is clean, indicating that the tool used must have been sharp and the incision as been expertly inserted in between the vertebrae. Erwin is suspecting that they're dealing with either a medical professional or a butcher and he can't help but be reminded of Jack the Ripper, the famously unsolved case. The big difference being that Erwin is on _this_ case now, of course, and Jaeger's unprofessional attitude not withstanding, he feels pretty confident they will solve it. Jaeger might have been in this department longer, but Erwin is his senior and isn't afraid to chew him out big time later.

There are many rational reasons why Erwin dislikes his partner; the way he seems to think he still operates without a partner, his sense of dress, how he eats his lunch in the car, the way he talks, the way he wears his sunglasses, the way he solicited Levi-

Mike breaks his train of thought by restlessly moving from one foot to the other, and Erwin realises he's been gritting his teeth. No, Erwin really isn't dealing with what is happening in his private life correctly at all. Is there a correct way? Probably, but he can't see it right now.

“Have you eaten yet?” Erwin asks Mike as a way of distracting him from his own lack of composure.

“Uh, no,” Mike mumbles and there's some panic in his eyes. He probably thinks Erwin will ask for them to take lunch together. He'll be completely correct.

“Let's get something to eat,” Erwin says and nearly smiles when he sees the slight widening of Mike's eyes before they flicker to the side. He's trying to make up an excuse as to why he can't go right now.

But Mike surprises him, “sure, I'm feeling the kebab right now actually.”

They're sitting on a wooden bench outside the kebab shop Mike insisted they'd go to and Erwin is trying really hard not to get any of the sauce on his tie or shirt. The lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him and his brain is feeling sort of cottony. It is still cold outside and steel grey clouds cover most of the sky, giving everything a bleached look. Maybe Levi is cold today... Erwin's lagging brain spends a long time processing just how out of the left field that thought is. He feels like groaning, like burying his face in his hands and screaming. Instead he stoically chomp down on the kebab and affects an air of light boredom. Like the uninspired weather and concrete world around them. Inside he's raging at himself. Of course he couldn't just hook up with someone without immediately tying some emotion or intent to it. He's never managed that. There's a reason he married his _high school_ girlfriend. A prostitute's jobs is literally to give a fix without anything attached, and here Erwin is sitting in a parking lot with his colleague wondering if said prostitute is _cold_.

“Jaeger really pissed you off that bad, huh?” Mike asks out of nowhere and wipes at the sauce on his chin. He's not giving a fuck whether he gets food on his shirt and Erwin admires him for it.

“Hm, yes I am pretty angry,” Erwin agrees. He's that too. But he knows what to do with that anger because it is rational.

“If this is you angry I wouldn't like to see you pissed,” Mike muses, “I wouldn't be surprised if we found Jaeger dead in a dumpster tomorrow.” Mike's bangs have fallen into his face but it doesn't seem like he cares much about it. If it had been Erwin he'd been going insane.

“Well,” Erwin hums, “I have never killed anyone before, but it would give a good insight into how murderers work.”

Mike stops chewing and stares at him for a beat, then he breaks out in a deep laugh. “You're a scary motherfucker, Smith.” Shaking his head, still smiling, Mike continues, “I didn't know if I'd like you at the start, but you're growing on me.”

This is perhaps the most warmth Erwin has experienced from anyone since he moved to Trost. It feels good and he cracks a smile in reply.

A bunch of what looks like upper secondary teens still in their uniforms bike up to the kebab shop, shoving at each other, laughing and one with a yo-yo keeps hitting everyone around him. Turning his wrist around to gauge the time, Erwin verifies that it is indeed only half past twelve in the afternoon and that these kids should all be in school. Mike side-eyes him, then shakes his head again in humour. He knows what is going through Erwin's mind, so Erwin decides to leave it alone. They're kids. There are more important lessons for them to learn than those on the school bench. Suddenly one of the them, an energetic red head, has finally had enough of the yo-yo guy and rips the thing out of his hand. He shouts when she throws it up on the roof, but does nothing more about it. Easy to see who the boss of the little gang is, even if she's about a head shorter than the rest of them. She reminds Erwin of someone in particular, but he won't let his thoughts continue down that lane.

“Look at those little shits,” Mike snorts, “wonder who their parents are.” But there is no malice in his voice, if anything he sounds wistful. The detective probably grew up right on these streets or somewhere very similar, Erwin realises, perhaps he even went to the same school and wore the same uniform.

“What do you think?” Erwin asks, because Mike seems like the sort of man who does a lot of thinking, but very little talking.

“About the case you mean?” Mike stares at the rest of his kebab for a while, then up at the sky and right back at the kids. “Definitely a serial killer- and a mean one at that. The way the murderer is only targeting people who are in some way associated with the Reiss family, it seems more like revenge murders to me... That said, he or she might just kill someone completely unrelated one of these days to throw us off their game.”

None of this is news to Erwin, but hearing his own theories repeated back to him helps cement them in his mind. He nods in contemplation. There's thrill mingled with revulsion. Thrill that he's dealing with such an intricate case, revulsion that they have very few clues and that they probably won't get any until there are more murders. There's heightened security around the Reiss family, of course, but they already had the best that money could buy before the incidents. One of the richest families in Trost, they sure as hell can afford whatever they need. And yet they keep on being targeted. It makes Erwin believe that the murderer is someone they know, or at the very least someone in their confidence. So a doctor or surgeon seems more likely than a butcher.

“I shouldn't have watched all those Jack the Ripper documentaries on late night TV,” Erwin sighs, “now I just imagine the murderer as this cloaked figure in fog with a top hat on.”

Mike's moustache twitches violently before he breaks out into loud laughter again. The kids by the shop stop what they're doing to stare at them, trying to see if they are drunks or adults out to make trouble. Satisfied that Erwin and Mike pose no real danger to them, they continue with their business.

“Maybe your intuition is right,” Mike snorts, “maybe our murderer is a guy in a cloak with a top hat on. Stranger things have happened in this city after all.”

Just as the sun peaks out from behind the clouds and bathes the dreary March day in temporary light and colour, Mike and Erwin decide to head back to the precinct. Erwin can't help but notice that Mike has a nasty stain on his shirt, but Mike on his part doesn't seem to give a shit.

When they get back to the precinct, Erwin tries to have a word with Shadis but is merely brushed aside with a casual, “there's some paperwork left and you actually do it properly so won't you get to that?”

The fact that Erwin used to have Shadis' job before he moved to Trost nearly has him flying into a white hot rage, but instead he takes the box filled with notes and photos from the crime scene. Maybe he'll be lucky and see some connection while trying to put all of this in order. The fact that they're definitely dealing with a serial killer seems to not concern anyone but him. Yes, Trost is a big city, unfathomably large by Erwin's standards, but they can't have been dealing with that many serial killers. Not enough for it to become a mundane task, at any rate. Something tastes bad in the back of Erwin's throat when he sits down behind his computer.

The sun has set and Erwin hasn't even made a dent in the box. He's been chugging coffee, but really, he wants something much stronger.

“This is it, huh?” Mike asks him as he swivels his chair over. “This is the nice little gift Jaeger left you?”

“If I didn't think Shadis will die of a heart attack soon, I would have killed him,” Erwin breathes. He's so close to snapping, so close to losing his god damned shit. Mike's hearty laughter fills the room and he even slaps his thigh in appreciation of Erwin's rapidly dwindling temper. “Don't worry Smith, I'm all done for the day so I can help you out a little.”

Any reply Erwin might have had dies on his lips and he's left only nodding mutely. Why Mike would spend a second of his life cleaning up after Jaeger is beyond him, but there he sits opposite Erwin with his trusty “ _best dad_ ” mug and a deep frown on his face while going over papers. Their studious work is suddenly interrupted by detective Zoe striding up and flicking Mike on the forehead.

“I have looked all over for you,” Zoe greets him, “it's rare for you to stay here longer than you absolutely have to.”

“Well, Jaeger fucked off so Smith and I got stuck with the paper work,” Mike grouses, slamming his coffee mug down on the desk. Some of the coffee spills over and Mike wipes it off with the sleeve of his shirt. Erwin carefully licks his lips to stop himself from commenting.

“God, I can't stand Jaeger,” Zoe groans without any filter and pulls a chair from a nearby desk to sit down in. “He's such a bellend.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Erwin's mouth. At least he's not the only one who has an issue with his partner. The floor is quiet no that most of the detectives have checked out, only a few still typing away on their computers trying to get home some time that evening. If it hadn't been for Mike then Erwin would have been there long into the night once again, though considering how it is at home now, he would really have preferred it. The way Marie acts like she always does has ice freezing in his veins, the way she sings in the shower and kisses him on the cheek... The warmth in her voice when she calls his name. The thought of going home makes him sick to the stomach.

Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Erwin peers down on the papers and sighs. Sure it is better than being at home, but somehow it is getting boring and he's pretty certain it's because his focus is all over the place. His natural curiosity is gone, replaced with confusion and sudden spikes of excitement only to plummet into despair.

“Hey, this sucks,” Zoe declares and throws the dossier she'd been looking at down on the desk again. “Let's head out and have a beer or something.”

“Hm,” Mike stretches and yawns. “I'd love to, but my wife would kill me if I went out drinking on a weekday.”

“Smith!” Zoe points at Erwin, “I'm heading for Maria and going alone just isn't and option. Besides, we've yet to have a beer together.”

Taken aback, Erwin can't help some of the shock showing on his face. Zoe cackles and wrings her hands like a cartoon villain, probably thinking that taking straight edged Erwin to a gay bar will blow his mind. Looking over at Mike for help, he's just met with a grin and a shrug. There's never really been any initiative from any of his co-workers to befriend him outside of the work environment, and he suspects its all thanks to Mike that it's rapidly changing. Usually, in a world where his wife isn't cheating and he doesn't sleep with male prostitutes, Erwin would have said no. But that world doesn't exist anymore.

“Sure,” he says and nearly chuckles when he sees Mike and Zoe's faces of surprise.

“Really? Damn now I have to come along,” Mike cheers. “Give me a moment, I'm gonna go and call Nana.”

Mike swivels his chair back over to his own desk and Erwin removes his glasses to massage his eyes. He's tired. So, so tired. It would actually be really good with a beer and some people to talk to- he hadn't even been aware how much he missed it.

They're taking Erwin's car, Mike in the passenger seat and Zoe in the back. She keeps leaning over in between their seats and talking excitedly. She's apparently gobsmacked that she managed to talk Smith, _the_ Erwin Smith, to go to a queer club. She makes sure to ask Erwin if he actually knows what kind of place this is, and he assures him that he do. He hadn't been aware that he was “ _the_ ” anything, though.

“I just thought you were super straight,” Zoe laughs as she hangs in between them. “Like, so straight that you didn't know gay existed.”

“Well,” Erwin shrugs. He had sort of been until last Friday, hadn't he? “Doesn't mean I can't have a beer at a gay bar.”

“I like you,” Zoe says, echoing Mike's earlier sentiment and slapping him on the shoulder.

“You go to the Maria often?” Erwin asks, trying to affect a casual air. Mike has a wife and daughter, but that apparently doesn't have to mean anything, but Zoe is a sort of wildcard. She could be anything.

“Yeah, I guess,” Zoe admits. “I kinda grew up there during the 80's, you know? Maria is one of the oldest places in the city that's safe for us queer kids.”

Erwin is both surprised and not that Zoe would just come out and say something like that. Surprised because no one Erwin knows would ever dare to be so vocal, not surprised because Zoe strikes him as the type of person who doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks.

There are a million questions Erwin wants to ask her. How it is to grow up openly gay together with other kids who they can associate with, if she's had girlfriends, how her parents handles it... everything.

Eventually he lands on a question even he finds lame, “so you're a lesbian, I guess?” Erwin can practically feel the side-eye Mike is giving him, but Zoe just shakes her head and laughs.

“Nah, I thought I was for a while, but now I identify as bisexual,” Zoe informs him, “takes a bit of time to really settle in, you know?”

Oh, doesn't Erwin know. He knows all too well. But Erwin is having trouble deducing what bisexual means, even in context. In the end he has to give up, “what is- uh, bisexual?”

Now Mike can't keep himself back and he barks out a laugh that is loud, but doesn't sound especially mean spirited. Erwin know he's being the butt of the “country bumpkin” joke here, but despite what they think, these are important questions for him.

“Oh honey,” Zoe breathes and unlike Mike she actually sounds heartfelt. “Bisexual is pretty easy to get when you think about it; it's when you're attracted to both men and women- a sort of in between of straight and gay.”

It really isn't far from the precinct to Pride Maria and Erwin finds himself wishing for more time. Even if Zoe has answered his question a million new ones have suddenly popped up. But, you can like _both_? Is the most prominent thought in his head.

“They say I'm a mess because I can't choose,” Zoe laughs, “bisexual and non binary, like pick a side.”

“Non what?” Erwin asks before he can censor himself. But really, at this point he can't fool either of them about his ignorance. They're by Maria now and since it's pretty early on a Monday, Erwin doesn't have any problems finding a parking spot.

“Hanji will tell you all about it later,” Mike promises as he opens the car door, “enough new things in one evening, don't you agree?”

Erwin doesn't really agree. He wants to know everything about this and he has a feeling that hitting up the word non binary in an encyclopedia won't really give him any enlightening results. Looking back at Zoe, she merely winks at him with a silent promise and Erwin supposes he'll just have to take what he can get.

Massive Attack is playing and Erwin gives himself a mental pat on the back for recognizing it. Mike has beer foam in his moustache that he's doing nothing about and Zoe is leaning back in her chair, laughing loudly at whatever her friend whispered in her ear. It is only a few days since Erwin had been sitting in his car outside this very bar with his heart so heavy he could hardly breathe, now he's on the inside in more ways than one. He's pretty sure that such drastic changes in someone's life in such a short period of time could, and will, lead to trauma. And yet he's feeling detached from it all. The analytical part of his brain knows its shock, the other, the one that's enjoying the beer, the company and the music thinks, “ _finally_ ”.

Mike is leaning over and yell/talks into Erwin's ear about the first time he came here with Zoe and there had been a drag show on. He had no idea what it was, only had a vague notion that it involved cross dressing men, but oh how wrong he had been. Now he tries to catch all of them, though after his youngest daughter was born he's had less time.

It isn't until Zoe yells, “Levi!” that Erwin looks up, startled. There really can't be all that many people at this particular queer bar with that name. And right on the money, there he is heading over to their table. The only indication that he recognizes Erwin is a slight widening of his eyes and a quirk at the corner of his mouth. He gives the table in general a nod and easily dodges out of Zoe's grasp as she tries to hug him.

“Come and sit down,” Zoe urges him instead and he does as suggested, shrugging out of his jacket and leaning his elbows on the table. The lights in the bar are muted, but even then Erwin can see the heavy set of his eyes, the stark blue against the pale white. “Work or pleasure today?” Zoe asks, as if that's just something you come out and say. But they appear to be, if not friends, then well aquinted. Does everyone in the precinct know Levi? Dread is starting to fester in Erwin's stomach. If Levi says anything, even if he just misspeak in the heat of the moment, Erwin will be outed.

“Ah,” Levi shrugs, “neither I guess, just wanted to get out for a while. It's cold at home.”

“Huh,” Zoe nods and there's a flash of what looks like concern on her face, “then let me buy you a beer, okay?” And then she's up and heading towards the bar without waiting for a reply.

The buzz of talk returns to the table, Mike is unusually chatty compared to how he's in the office and Erwin is having a hard time following. There's something about his wife having punched someone with a dog, though he isn't certain what lead up to the altercation. Seems to be about some sort of abuse of the dog and he nods as if he's entirely engrossed in the conversation. But how can he be with Levi right there? The very proof that what happened wasn't just a fever dream. Levi has picked up a napkin and is busy dabbing at some of the spilled beer, a fruitless endeavour if anything.

When Zoe returns to the table it is with two new pitchers of beer and Erwin knows they're staying for a while. The smoke is hanging heavy over their table and coupled with the already foggy state of Erwin's brain, he's walking on the knife's edge of a headache and a buzz of contentment.

“You're looking kind of peaky today,” Mike comments as he peers closer at Levi, “you not feeling too good?”

Levi shrugs again. He's wearing an oversized t-shirt and hoodie today, in stark contrast to the little dress from Friday. “I haven't really been drinking much this weekend,” Levi replies, his voice a dead monotone, “I think I'm just having minor withdrawal or something.”

“That's a real bugger,” Zoe agrees and pulls a face of distaste, “I had those at University all the time- nearly cost me a grade it did.”

Erwin wonders if Levi feels anything about talking like this in front of someone he had sex with just last night, but then he can't help but chuckle quietly at how ridiculous that thought is. Of course Levi doesn't care, he just did his job. And a good job at that. Turning back to Mike, Erwin catches the glint in his eye and his moustache is twitching. Was Erwin staring too much? A flutter of panic flares only to disappear just as quick. The fog is pushing away all the things Erwin thought he stood for. Maybe Mike suspects something, but then Zoe is openly... what was it? Bisexual? And binary- no, non binary. It is a lot to wrap his mind around. But as it stands, there's worse people to see him look at a pretty man. A flush raises to his cheeks, but not one of embarrassment. Just excitement.

Three mugs in and Erwin is feeling the good buzz. He's finally taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It's hot in the club and the talk is loud. Zoe is doubled over with laughter at something he said, but he can't really think of what it might be. Mike had to get up and call his wife from the payphone a few hours in and Erwin thinks that he should call Marie. But what excuse could he give? It's not like she can't hear the noise behind him so it's not like he can give the same story about working over time. His cellphone is lying discarded and out of battery in his car, but to be honest? He can't be fucked. She's probably not at home either, or if she is she's having a visitor again. _Nile_.

Levi taps a packet of cigarettes on the table and for the first time his gaze meet Erwin's. He can't really read the intent in the dark blue eyes that appear nearly black in the muted light.

“I'm going for a smoke,” Levi says to the table in general. He puts one between his lips and gets up before any of them has the chance to answer. There's no reason for him to go out in the freezing cold to have a cig, but neither Zoe, Mike or anyone else at their table seems to find it strange.

Erwin wants a smoke too.

Excusing himself, he gets up from the table and follow Levi outside. The cold feels like a punch to the face after the heat inside and Erwin is grateful that he brought his jacket. That's more than Levi thought to do and he's already hunched over with his cigarette. He really doesn't care about his own preservation, Erwin realises.

“You can borrow my jacket if I get a cigarette from you,” Erwin barters. Levi looks up at him with smoke billowing from his nose and fog from his mouth. After a moment of hesitation he nods and Erwin drapes it around his shoulders. There's a small sigh of relief as he pulls it closer to himself which Erwin pretends he didn't hear, but takes the packet of Camels from Levi's cold fingers regardless.

There's silence between them while they smoke, but Erwin doesn't mind. Levi did say he wasn't working tonight so that doesn't matter. It's quiet outside. Just a few cars driving by and a couple of people hollering outside a convenience store. The doors of the club open and close, carrying with it the music and murmur of people. The nights in the city always smells different from the days; muted, like wet asphalt and fog.

“That's your car, right?” Levi suddenly prompts and points at Erwin's Mercedes, “you ever fucked in your car?”

It isn't a question he was expecting, but Erwin rallies quickly. “I've fucked in my car, yes,” he nods, “but not that one.”

“Shame,” Levi states and takes a deep drag of his cigarette, pulling the glow to the filter before tossing it to the ground and stepping on it. “It's a nice car.”

Maybe Erwin would have agreed at some point, but right now he feels nothing but repulsion about that car. What a meaningless gesture that car had been. Demoted, with a partner who goes over his head, a boss who tells him to keep in line and on top of everything: he's now being cucked. Great, not exactly the image Erwin had of himself before moving to the city.

“You look sort of constipated when you think,” Levi comments while peering up into his face with a critical eyebrow raised. The barefaced honesty forces a laugh out of Erwin and he's reminded all over again why Levi had piqued his interest in the first place.

“I have a lot to think about,” Erwin replies just as honest, “ which you know.”

Levi shrugs inside Erwin's jacket that's all too big for him, but he looks satisfied in it. “I mean, if you're gay you gotta get out of the closet at some point.”

Again Erwin can't really keep his smile in check. He chews the side of his cheek and hums. “You never wondered, you never had a point in your life where you thought you were going crazy?”

“This is a too heavy of a topic for me,” Levi tells him with a shrug, “my life hasn't exactly been A4, I've been mostly concerned with getting to the next day- so who I slept with didn't really matter much.”

Maybe that's Erwin's cue to back the fuck off, but he can't help but try and take Levi in all over again. Out of his dress and make up he looks more his age, though tired and worn and Erwin would have liked to find some comforting words, a gesture that could ease that furrow on his brow, but that is assuming way too much. They don't really know each other. They've fucked, sure, and that was great, but Erwin reminds himself that his distorted relations to casual sex isn't the same as Levi's. Not everything has to lead to marriage. Maybe it never should have the first time around.

“Want to fuck in your car?”

Really, at this point Erwin is blaming the alcohol for the whiplash his brain is having in trying to adjust to Levi's steep veering between conversation topics.

“I thought you weren't working tonight?” Erwin says, coughing lightly before he stubs his cigarette into the ashtray next to them.

“I wasn't really gonna,” Levi concedes, “but I can make exceptions.”

There's just something endearing in how Levi tries to be charming. Like he's heard about the concept and is imitating it to his best ability. Erwin hesitates to profile the man since he doesn't really know him in any capacity, yet he has a strong feeling that Levi would have a hard time pretending to be someone he's not. And right now Erwin doesn't think he can say no to that. Even though Erwin hasn't done any hard drugs in his life, he's pretty certain this is how it feels to chase a high. Last Friday he got the first fix and now the pull is stringing him along.

“Sure,” Erwin agrees, he's been doing a lot of agreeing today, but then he adds, “there's good heating in the car.” The deadpan look Levi gives him tells him that he got the jab just right. Though he wanted to tease Levi a bit, he's not lying when he says that there's nice heating and he sure would like some now that Levi has his jacket.

When Levi slides into the passenger seat he leans his head back against the seat and heaves a sigh. It is a sigh of relief, not one of dread, or at least so Erwin hopes.

“I was surprised when I saw you at Maria tonight,” Levi admits while he removes Erwin's jacket. “Considering how skittish you were last time and all.”

“Hm,” Erwin contemplates, tapping the steering wheel before putting the car in idle and jacking up the heat. “I'm still in shock I think.”

Levi is quiet while regarding him. There's nothing really obtrusive about Levi's gaze, not like the open stare of curiosity. Just a quiet assessment.

“You want to go a second time to see if it sticks?” Levi eventually asks. Some colour has come back to his face as the heat rises in the car.

“I enjoyed what happened way too much to really have any doubts,” Erwin admits, “this is more of an indulgence.”

Remembering himself, Erwin fishes his wallet out from his jacket that's in Levis seat and finds the bills equal to the ammount he paid last time. Can he afford this outrageous spending? Not really, but then again, he doesn't care anymore. Levi takes the money and stuffs them in the pocket of his sweats and is about to open his mouth to say something more, but Erwin can't keep himself back any longer. He needs this closeness, needs to taste Levi again. He can't quite describe the stillness his mind had when they fucked, but he craves it again. Before Levi can utter a word, he presses their lips together and the only sound escaping him is a quiet “ _hm_ ”. Perhaps it is assuming too much before talking it over, but Erwin hasn't gathered his thoughts that far before his hands are under Levi's t-shirt and he's touching that soft skin again. The way Levi's muscles bunches under his hands as he twists in the seat is so unlike what he's used to, but he loves it. Hesitant hands touches his shoulder and back, but when Erwin does nothing to shrug them off the grip becomes more assured. Levi is feeling him up much the same way Erwin touches him, nearly mimicking the touches one for one and if the repeated soft _hms_ is anything to go by, he doesn't mind what he finds. Pulling Levi closer to himself, Erwin cradles his head and twins his fingers into the longer strands of his inky hair. He wants this so badly and even if it is a strange sentiment, he feels safe in Levi's hands. If he flounders at any point Levi is there to pick it up for him without judgement. Levi doesn't really strike him as a good actor. Rather the opposite.

When they then finally pull apart and Levi comments sardonically, “you sure got more ballsy since last time,” Erwin feels vindicated in his amassment. He shrugs in reply and Levi continues, “so, what d'you wanna do?”

“Well, what do _you_ want to do?” Erwin replies before he can check himself. Levi gives him that look again, the one that screams “ _are you actually a country bumpkin?_ ” and Erwin laughs quietly. Well, yes, he is that too, but more importantly, he really love the sounds Levi can make. The way he gasp and clutches at him and if Erwin could make a repeat of that he'd be quite satisfied. “You were the one who wanted to fuck in the car, remember?” Erwin prods him, hoping for a return of that deadpan stare. He is not disappointed.

Pushing Erwin back into his own seat again, Levi shimmies out of his sweats with surprising agility, like he's done this in a car a million times before. He probably has, Erwin reminds himself, and he's glad Levi knows exactly what he's doing. In one smooth movement, Levi throws his leg over Erwin's lap and straddles him with his boots still on, his slim but muscular thighs there for Erwin to touch and enjoy. With a few practised moves, Levi declines and pushes the seat back and Erwin can't help but laugh at the studious efficiency. Levi stops his ministrations and glares at him with a look in between affronted and surprised at his audacity. And now Erwin really can't hold it back. It feels so good to laugh.

“No, by all means,” he smirks at Levi and he feels genuine warmth towards him, “please do go on.”

Levi's dark eyes flicker between Erwin's to gauge if he is being serious or if this is a trick. When he seems to find what he's looking for he huffs and moves his hands to Erwin's shirt. The way he unbuttons it is neither slow nor very seductive, but the intense look on his face speaks of another set of emotions. It has been a while since Erwin has felt so desired. Is the way Levi quickly darts out his tongue and licks his lips as he brushes the fabric aside intentional or not? With a last glance at Erwin's face to make absolutely sure this is okay, Levi ducks his head down to place his lips against Erwin's pectorals. Levi's breath is hot against his skin, his mouth wet, and Erwin lets his hands stray further up Levi's thighs until they're cupping his ass. He can feel how Levi's erection is waking up, slowly spasming at first until the hardness of it is rubbing against his stomach. His own has been hard with anticipation nearly from the moment they got into the car.

In something nearing aggressiveness, Levi unbuckles Erwin's belt and tears open the button and flyer in one move. If Erwin hadn't known better he'd think Levi wanted this as much as him. It is a nice thought. Bracing one hand against Erwin's shoulder, Levi wraps his hand lightly around the base of Erwin's cock and pumps him slowly. Using his thumb to spread the pre-cum around the head, the soft ministrations are somewhere between delicious and maddening.

With yet another sigh, Levi leans over and gets the wallet out of the pocket of his discarded sweats. In it he finds a packet of condoms that he rips open and quickly pulls over Erwin's hard member with an expert flick of his wrist. Erwin is impressed.

“I didn't bring any lube,” Levi warns him just as he lifts himself up and lines Erwin up.

“Wu-wait,” Erwin gasps and stops him, it is difficult to find the self discipline, “won't you get hurt?”

Levi merely gives him an exasperated look. “You might be a challenge,” he says, “but I know how much I can take.” The delivery is matter of fact and Erwin doesn't quite know what to do with it. Was it a compliment or? But any further thoughts on the matter disappears out of his mind when Levi pushes himself down and the tight warmth envelopes him. There's only a slight frown on Levi's face to indicate his discomfort, but Erwin can't stop staring at him. He is hoping that Levi isn't hurting himself, but he also loves how he feels too much to be able to stop it.

“ _Ah_ ,” Levi groans as he finally seats himself and the colour on his cheeks are a deep red. Fluttering his eyes open he stares into Erwin's once more and Erwin just loves how there's no shyness in that look. With one hand holding onto Erwin's shoulder, Levi uses the other to steady himself on Erwin's knee to get a better leverage for his legs to lift himself up. This new position forces Erwin's cock all the way into him and Erwin can hardly keep back from groaning. Instead he slowly exhales warm air from between his lips and clutches Levi's ass a little tighter. The physical exertion such a position must demand doesn't even seem to tax him and watching Levi like this is a delight. He's fully spread out in front of him, his abdominal and thigh muscles working as he moves up and down in an almost agonizingly slow rhythm. Erwin shifts his hands from the delicious flesh of Levi's ass to lift his t-shirt up to his chest to get an even better view. Stroking his thumbs over Levi's nipples has them quickly hardening and with the way Levi's lips are softening and his eyelashes fluttering again, Erwin guesses it has an affect on him.

Levi is looking at him, his eyes dashing from where Erwin's cock pushes into him, to Erwin's chest, to his face where their gaze finally meet and Levi's breath becomes laboured. The fact that anyone could look in through the car window just occurs to Erwin, but the thought comes and disappears just as quickly. He doesn't give a fuck. All that matters is the sight in front of him, the pale skin moving across taut muscle, the blushed pink head of Levi's cock, how slick it looks against his stomach. Erwin wants to feel the hardness of it and doesn't stop himself from wrapping his hand around it. Levi hums a soft “ _ah_ ,” when he does and Erwin knows exactly what he wants to do. He strokes Levi firmly with the rhythm of his movements, enjoying all too much how the flush of Levi's cheekbones deepens, how his chest heaves for air and how his ring clenches around Erwin's cock even tighter.

“Smith,” he groans, “I'm- ... _fuck_.”

Though Erwin wants to tease him and ask “ _what?_ ” he knows all too well what Levi is trying to communicate, he can feel Levi's cock swell and twitch in his hand. So why would Erwin stop now? Even if someone put a gun to his head he doubts he could force himself to. Levi's measured movements becomes halting and he holds his breath only to let it out into a long sigh that ends on a moan. The muscles in his face twitches, his lips pull back and his chin drops to his chest in a last, strained gasp as he tries to keep himself back.

“Shit, shit,” he whispers, “Smith, I-” But that is all he has the time to utter before his mouth opens in a silent moan and hot cum splashes all over Erwin's stomach and chest. Seeing it displayed so beautifully before him has Erwin nearly letting go as well.

“Fuck, fuck,” Levi whispers, but Erwin doesn't care nor does he have any time for his swearing. Instead he jerks Levi towards himself so that he lands on his chest before spreading his asscheeks wide to better fuck him at his own pace. Which is hard and unrelenting. Levi clutches at him, moaning into his ear before his teeth digs into the skin of his neck and his fingers twists in his shirt hard enough that there's going to be tears in it. But he doesn't mind, he doesn't care. All he cares for is pumping Levi as hard as he can and the way Levi moans is driving him nearly mad. He could do this forever, but the tightness of Levi has the white hot pleasure race down his spine to his balls and he comes hard. Wave after wave that ends up leaving him breathless and completely spent.

When the lasts spasms has left him he finally unclenches his fingers from their grip on Levi's ass and he worries that he's left some nasty bruises. In his arms, Levi moans quietly and he feels so soft. His teeth has let go of Erwin's neck and by the feel of it he's going to be sporting his own set of bruises. For a heartbeat he wants to apologize for having gotten carried away, but by Levi's warm breath on his neck and his soft gasps he assumes that Levi must have enjoyed it too. Still.

“You okay, Levi?” he asks, and brushes some of the matted hair away from Levi's face.

“Yeah,” Levi croaks and finally sits up. There's saliva on his lips. “Shit,” he curses again, “I got cum all over you.” That is a fact, but one that has Erwin smiling if nothing else. “I even got jizz on your shirt.”

Erwin looks down at what is undeniably a stain of cum on his shirt, but he finds that he does not give a shit.


	5. Cheers!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If he's not careful he might just get used to this and there nothing dumber than desiring one specific customer. Despite all his rational thinking, Levi can't stop looking at Smith, take in the scent of his collogne and sweat and now also Levi's cigarettes. The taste of beer on his lips._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March again, huh? Cheers for another year. 
> 
> CW: A homophobic slur, Zevi transactions.

Well that was fucking unprofessional, spilling all over his patron like he's some sort of pent up teenager. But there hadn't been much Levi could do once it culminated- Smith is just too god damned attractive and he got some really good dick. Smith on his part seems completely unbothered by it. He pulls out slowly and Levi can't keep back a hiss of pain. Truth be told he hadn't been ready for that fuck at all and now he's feeling the consequences. Smith's blue eyes pierces into his own with a knowing look and his lips thin in disapproval. For fuck's sake, it's not like Levi is hurt, he's just sore and will probably have to watch how he sits on chairs for a couple of days.

“There's some wipes in the dashboard,” Smith informs him as he pulls the condom off and ties it. Leaning over, Levi finds what he's looking for and grabs a handful of wipes to clean them both off. Smith is hairier than himself and Levi spends more time than necessary applying the wipes. Smith's skin is warm and there's a light sheen of sweat after having worked Levi so hard. Just the thought of it has heat pool in his stomach again and he wants to divert his thoughts, wants to not be this needy, but it is hard to let go when you find something so good. His hands feel tingly like they tend to do after a really intense orgasm. The way Smith had lost his goody two shoes persona at the end had Levi nearly completely hard again just a few moments after coming. If he's not careful he might just get used to this and there nothing dumber than desiring one specific customer. Despite all his rational thinking, Levi can't stop looking at Smith, take in the scent of his collogne and sweat and now also Levi's cigarettes. The taste of beer on his lips.

Fucking idiot, Levi scolds himself as he falls forward and rests his head against Smith's shoulder again. The one he bit to try and stop himself from sounding like a complete wanton whore. A warm hand brushes over his buzzed hair and down his neck, the other makes its way up his thigh and under his t-shirt again.

“You're hard again,” Smith confirms, his breath hot on Levi's ear.

“So what?” Levi mumbles into Erwin's neck. If anything that's the least of his problems right now.

“I want to get you off,” Erwin hums and when Levi finally moves to look at him he appears unfazed by what he just propositioned, like it is completely natural for him to say such a thing. There's evidence of their recent fuck on his face, a faint blush on his cheeksbones and his blue eyes sparkle in the sparse light and Levi sort of want to kiss him. So he does. This is the first time he's ever initiated a kiss with a John, and for Levi's sanity it also better be the fucking last. With this John that keeps looking at him and keeps touching him, taking his time, and who should be everything Levi dislikes. His mouth is so hot and his shoulders so wide and when he wraps his arms around Levi and pulls him closer to himself Levi can't quite keep down the shiver. Who is he embarrassed to show his desire to? To himself? To Smith... who only thinks of him as a hooker? Must be quite a confidence booster, if nothing else.

“Is that okay?” Smith asks and Levi has to cast his mind back to remember what he's refering to.

“If I'm okay with you getting me off?” Levi nearly laughs, right now he can't really think of anything he wants more. “Yeah, that is very much okay.”

The arm wrapped around Levi's lower back tightens and he's held in an almost painful grip against Smith's stomach. The other hand moves downwards and he can feel his fingers caress his entrance, the pads of Smith's fingers barely gracing the sensitive skin. Levi is confused for a moment, and then the fingers breaches him. They aren't exactly careful, but neither are they forceful and his dick spasms with keen interest in the tight space between them. Fuck, Levi can't believe he's reduced to this. He can't believe he wants it.

There's no lube except the remnant from the condom and the sting coupled with the wonderful stretch has Levi huffing hot air into Smith's neck again. He can't look at him right now, can't see that satisfied smirk he's sure he has. Smith grabs a not too gentle hold of one of Levi's ass cheeks and lifts him up to get a better angle with the hand that's slowly pushing into him. Like this there's really not much Levi can do but hold onto Smith's shoulder and the car seat. Two fingers are quickly replaced with three and Levi tries to squirm with the fullness of it but Smith's grip on him won't allow it. Fuck, he loves it.

“There should be-” Smith whispers into his ear and Levi can feel how the fingers bend and caresses inside him, how they're so close and there, Levi can't help the groan of pleasure, “-found it.”

How the fuck does Smith know about the prostate? Wasn't he supposed to be so far into the closet he's on his way to Narnia? But any such thoughts disappears into a white hot fog of pleasure. Those hands really should be illegal.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Levi groans as his muscles clenches and he wants to move, somehow, but he's stuck. The slight friction he's able to get from their stomachs being pressed together is torturous more than anything else and he gasps, almost wants to beg. His pride won't let him.

Now that Smith is certain he found what he's looking for, his pace quickens and becomes more forceful and Levi really can't keep his moans quiet now. It is such an undignified position and yet it feels so good coupled with the burning of his already sore entrance. His hand is clutching at Smith's hair, probably nearly tearing it out of his scalp and it has to hurt, but he can't let go. He's so close, he's hanging on the edge, he just needs a bit more. Just some friction. Is Smith seriously going to make him cum with prostate massage alone? Levi is about to die of the overstimulation and he never wants it to stop.

And Smith doesn't stop. The force of his impaling fingers are hard enough and brutal enough to grind Levi against him, giving him enough stimuli for his cock to slowly push him over. It comes like a slow tide and not as the sudden climax he usually gets, washing over him in waves and he's barely coherent of the sounds he's making. The way he's squirming in Smith's tight grip and tearing at his hair and shirt. Every muscle in his body is spasming with the force of it and when it finally ceases, when Smith finally stops, Levi doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry.

“Sorry,” he eventually manages to mumble and finally lets go of Smith's hair. He can't fucking believe he did that, he can't believe he came from Smith's fingers alone. Said fingers leaves him slowly and the grip eases enough for Levi to sit back and look at him. For the first time in his life he's feeling kind of shy, but the hot flush on Smith's face and his otherwise so carefully kept hair in a dissaray chases that right out of him. Their eyes meet and there's an unanswered question in both of them; this isn't a part of their deal, so what is it?

To distract himself from the question, Levi grabs the packet of wipes with shaking hands and starts cleaning them all over again. There's less spill this time, thankfully, and Levi is busy focusing on it when Smith suddenly breaks the silence, his voice warm, “thanks for letting me do that.”

Levi stops mid motion before quickly continiuing. He has no words for that. Has no idea what to say. Licking his lips he looks up at Smith again hoping that his expression and his behaviour will convey that he's okay with it. Perhaps a bit more than okay. He won't ever admit to it with words, though. If the small smile on Smith's lips is an indicator, then the message is well received.

Done cleaning both of them off, Levi glides back into the passanger seat and puts his sweats back on. They're both silent for a while, relaxing in their seats trying to gather their wits.

“You going back into the club again?” Levi eventually asks. It had looked like Smith was having a good time with the others. Levi doesn't particularily like cops, for obvious reasons, but Hanji tends to pick their friends well despite their erratic personality.

“No,” Erwin replies, “are you?” He's rolling down the window to air out some of the sex. Too bad, it had finally gotten to a livable temprature in there.

“Nah,” Levi sighs, “I'm done for. I just want to go back to sleep.”

“Want a lift home?”

The question is unexpected and once again Levi doesn't quite know how to answer. Yes, he sure as hell would like a lift home, but there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. Then again, he has invited Smith into his home, already setting them up for a familiarty he isn't used to. He's still feeling the stretch from Smith's cock and fingers and the throb in his body and the echoes of his own moans. In the end he nods.

“Should you be driving though?” Levi objects, “I mean, you did chug quite a few beers.”

“Eh,” Smith shrugs as he starts the ignition, “I can make the DUI disappear if we get stopped.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Levi snorts, “you pigs are all crooked.”

Smith looks at him from the corner of his eye, but there's a smile playing on his lips. “You want a ride or no?” he asks and Levi groans, but shuts up.

Slumping down in his seat, Levi disappears in the feeling of his body completely relaxed and the neon lights of the city flashing by. He's warm now and with his cheek resting on the back of his hand, Levi can feel his eyes grow heavier. He could easily fall asleep right then and there.

Smith is focusing on the road with the hand that's just been inside Levi on the steering wheel, a golden wedding band on his finger glinting in the sporadic light. Levi doesn't usually give a shit about what Johns get up to, why they come to him in the first place or what their histories are. They don't care about Levi's and he does not care about them. So why is Levi's curiosity being peaked now? Perhaps because Smith has been so honest in his way out of the closet, something Levi can empathise with. Though he suspects there might just be a whole set of other implications that's making him sympathetic. Like the mindblowing sex.

Putting the draw cord of the hoodie in his mouth, Levi chews on it for a while before speaking up, “so you're gay now?”

The hand on the steering wheel tightens and Smith's jaw clenches a few times. In the end he sighs heavily and wipes at his eyes in an exhausted gesture. “I don't know,” he admits, “I... obviously find myself attracted to men- well, I am certainly attracted to _you,_ but I also know I'm attracted to women- that hasn't gone away.”

“So, bisexual then,” Levi shrugs, “at least you don't have to live a double life with your wife or whatever.”

Smith sucks in air and the tenseness feels almost physical in the small space of the car. Because he's been so gentlemanly up until now, Levi had been thinking that Smith isn't the type to lose his temper. But apparently that line wasn't so far away after all. And this is why Levi doesn't put his nose in a John's business. Live and learn. Again.

“Well...” Smith breaks the awkward silence, “Hanji did say she was, uhm, bisexual. I guess that makes sense?” Levi doesn't really know what to say to that, so he chooses not to comment. It isn't exactly rocket science. But he finally realises something when Smith continues, “so, this bisexual thing- do you know a lot of people like that?”

It is just so painfully obvious that Smith hasn't heard about this until recently. Such a country boy, probably grew up in a tiny bible thumping town where gay happened to other people. Okay, Levi is willing to throw him a bone. As thanks for the lift home. As a thanks for... whatever had just happened between them.

“Well, my ex is bisexual for example,” Levi offers, “I don't know a lot of people who use the label, but I know plenty of people who sleep with both men and women.”

“So, you're fully homosexual then,” Smith says, looking away from the street for a second to regard Levi. The way he says homosexual tickles something in Levi and he casually wipes at his mouth to hide his smile.

“Yeah, one hundred percent faggot,” Levi replies and is gratified when he see the shadow of disgust on Smith's face at the slur. “I mean, it can't have just come out of thin air, right,” Levi continues, “no one suddenly just goes to a male hooker on a whim if they're sure they're straight.” No one fucks them until they scream, either, Levi adds to himself.

Smith gives a sound of contemplation as they come to a halt at a red light. For someone who admitted just an hour ago that he was going crazy, he is disconcertingly composed. Though perhaps the rumpled shirt with evidence of Levi's orgasm all over it and the messed up hair is enough of a clue for someone who knows him. Which Levi doesn't, but if you can't read a John the job can become dangerous, quickly.

“There were times when I, _hm-”_ Smith draws a breath and he narrows his eyes for a moment in contemplation, “-when I did feel attracted to men, but because I was happily married I thought that I couldn't possibly be gay. That I'm obviously straight, right? Then- then something happened that changed my perspective on certain things.”

So she cheated or threatened to leave him, Levi mentally shrugs. Shit like that happens all the time without the world ending. He can't quite wrap his mind around it, but he isn't about to say any of that. Instead he comments, “at least you won't have a bit on the side that demands your attention when you're done discovering shit and go back to your wife.”

Filter. Filter is something Levi doesn't really have. The words are out of his mouth before he's processed them and now he's pretty certain he'll get thrown out of the speeding car. But when he hears Smith laughing he can't help but stare at him with some surprise.

“You're quite pragmatic,” Smith chuckles and something in the set of his shoulders relaxes. Levi shrugs- in his field of work he sort of has to be.

The fact that Smith knows the way to Levi's apartment should perhaps be rising some red flags, Levi muses, when they slow down in front of the entrance gate. So much for pragmatism. Climbing out of the warmth of the car and into the creeping cold feels like a special kind of hell.

“Good night,” Smith calls after him, probably on habit since he's obviously been raised right.

Levi hasn't though. “Don't worry too much about it, Smith,” he says, “this just sucks because you have to go through it while you're old.”

“Old?!-” Smith splutters, but Levi slams the door shut.

It isn't until he's walked on unsteady legs up to his flat that he remembers he forgot his fucking jacket at the bar.

“Sorry, Levi,” Mo shakes his head and holds his hands up in apology. “If your jacket was here I would have called you, I wouldn't mess with that.”

“Fuck,” Levi whispers under his breath. He can't believe he lost his jacket because he couldn't keep it in his god damned pants.

When waking up on Monday, Levi had felt like shit. The flat had been grey and cold and there hadn't been a reason in the world to get up. Petra had a few more kids over so Eren had been busy with that, and Levi couldn't believe how he was lying in bed waiting for the insisted knocking, couldn't get to terms with how the loneliness settled heavier for each hour. Never in his life had he imagined he'd turn into a person who needed others around him. When he then finally managed to roll out of bed and found his fridge empty of beer, he had either the choice of going to the store to buy some more and drink alone, or bite the bullet and crawl his way to Maria.

Finding Hanji there had been a mixed bag. It was nice to see a familiar face- even if that familiar face tended to grate on Levi's nerves. Smith had been a surprise entierly. Not only because he'd been so unsure about everything only the weekend before, but Hanji just didn't seem like the type of person Smith would associate with. Their messy, often wrongly buttoned up shirt and creased suitpants is basically the antithesis of Smith's immaculate dress and perfectly styled hair. But appearances can deceive. Levi had never thought Smith would have it in him to make Levi come all over his brand, spanking new car, for example.

It had taken Levi the better part of the evening debating with himself whether he should make a shot for it. When he eventually did, it had been a bit too easy. Smith hadn't even spent a minute thinking it through and to be honest, Levi is pretty fucking glad even if his walk still isn't all the way there.

But now he's lost his jacket because Smith's blue eyes is making Levi act like an idiot.

Exiting the bar while beating himeself over the head for his horny stupidity, Levi stops dead in his tracks. He's just about to turn around and head back when Jaeger calls out his name. Like this day couldn't get any worse. The way Jaeger is sitting on the hood of the car meant for police work is grating on Levi's last nerve. There's just no end to his audacity. And why would there be? He's the one to call all the shots in this neighbourhood.

Walking up with as measured strides as he's capable of, Levi hisses, “what the fuck do you want, Jaeger?”

Of course he knows what Jaeger wants. The thing he's always wanted and Levi has given him time and again. At least Jaeger has the decency to pay for it.

“Hi, baby,” Jaeger greets him like they're old friends. Or worse, old lovers. “Work has been getting to me lately and I realised how much I've been missing you.”

“I'm not working,” Levi shoots him down. He's never been so blunt before, but the day has only just begun and he's already worn to the bone.

“Yes, I can see you're tired,” Jaeger nods with a soft smile, “how about we tripple the usual price?”

Levi stares. That _is_ a lot of money. He quickly does the math and arrives at a month's worth of bills paid in full as well as money for Isabel's new school uniform and tuition. He can't say no to that.

“Money up front then,” he insits. Jaeger has never duped him before, but if he's going to do this he wants to make absolutely sure he gets his hands on that money.

“Don't you trust me, Levi?” Jaeger teases him, his eyes glinting with humour behind his glasses. Pulling out his wallet he easily withdraws the amount of bills and holds them out for Levi to take. Just like that, in broad daylight by his work issued car. If he hadn't been such a dick Levi would have admired him.

“An extra note if you want to go bareback,” Levi barters. He knows Jaeger can't pass up such a deal. Chuckling like he knows he's being had, Jaeger pulls out another two notes. Taking the wad, Levi rolls them up and tucks them safely away in the pocket of his jeans jacket.

For that amount of money, Jaeger will be expecting the whole meal and so he gets into the backseat of the car without being prompted. By the time Jaeger has parked behind the bar, Levi has removed most of his clothes. He can't help but be reminded of the first time he saw Smith and how he'd jumped out of this very car and yelled at Jaeger for soliciting a prostitute. Well, shouldn't he be eating his words. There would be absolutely no reason for Levi to like one crooked cop over the other, but in reality his resentment of Jaeger is born from years of not daring to say no unless he suffer the consequences. But there is always someone pulling the strings, keeping the information, paying the right people to do the right job, making sure the little people do as ordered. Jaeger really isn't that bad, all things considered.

Taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves, Jaeger grabs something from the dashboard and climbs into the backseat with Levi and hums his appreciation, “it's been a while since we did this, hasn't it Levi?”

Yes thank fuck, Levi wants to say, but around Jaeger at least he knows how to shut up.

“On your stomach,” Jaeger directs, and Levi does as he's told. He's already dreading it, he was so fucking stupid with Smith and now he's sore all over. He'll just have to bite the proverbial pillow.

“Just... start slow okay, I'm not-” Levi stops because he really can't bring himself to say the rest, but Jaeger seems to get the hint.

His hands flutter over Levi's ass and he gives a critical _tsk_. “Someone wasn't very kind to you, hm?” he comments, “there's bruises all over.”

Levi has to hide his face in the crook of his arm, because how funny wouldn't it be to tell him that it was his partner who did that. The shock on Jaeger's face would almost be worth it. But in Levi's line of work you don't kiss and tell, that's just a sure fire way of losing a return customer. In worst case: get yourself killed.

“It's a good thing I came prepared then,” Jaeger hums and Levi can hear the click of a bottle being opened.

“You brought fucking lube in your cop car?” he groans, because why _wouldn't_ Jaeger do that? It is just the kind of shit he's likely to pull. Right now Levi wishes Smith had done the same, but whatever. Jaeger only laughs quietly as he moves his slick fingers to Levi's entrance. Even still, Levi has do clench his teeth to stop the grunt of pain. But nothing really gets past a detective's keen notice.

“That bad, hm?” Jaeger sighs, “you really need to take better care of yourself, baby.”

“It's fine,” Levi grouses, “just a bit uncomfortable.” The money is in his pocket and he's not about to back down now.

When Jaeger then proceeds to do as Levi asked and goes slow with his preparations, Levi can't decide whether he's grateful or just really pissed that it's taking longer than necessary. Carding his hands into his hair, Levi pulls at it to distract himself from what is happening. When the fingers disappear and he hears the opening of a zipper Levi lets his head fall down and he surpresses a sigh.

Despite his dread it really isn't so bad when he's breached and Levi is surprised Jaeger could be bothered. He trails kisses up Levi's spine to the nape of his neck, the beard tickling him and Levi fights the urge to shrug him off. It really doesn't make sense to him how Jaeger uses information to extort him one moment and then acts like he's a gentle lover in the next. What does he even want from Levi? A subservient whore or a boyfriend? Levi is sure he can be the former, but not the latter.

The pace is slow and measured, the cupious amount of lube making the glide slick and lying on his stomach Levi can almost pretend this is just another John. Almost. Jaeger is a talker, whispering things in his ear about how tight he is, how good he feels, that he's Jaeger's boy.

Levi wants this to be over with and he knows exactly what gets Jaeger off.

“Harder, please,” Levi begs, making his voice soft. He can feel Jaeger's hot breath on his neck as he complies immediately. It hurts, but nothing Levi can't bear and he turns what would have been whimpers of discomfort into hushed moans. Jaeger is cocky enough that the bad acting goes right to his head.

Opening his eyes, Levi sees a flash of flaxen hair as Jaeger leans over him and for a moment his imagination brings forth pictures of a different blonde. This is so fucked up, so god damned fucked up, but it has a tingle of excitement stirring through him for the first time. Rationally he should chase every thought of Smith right out of his head but... right here and right now it would feel so much better not to. He doesn't even have to do it consciously, the memories of last time they were together comes back like they've been right there on the forefront of his mind the entire time. The pain doesn't really subside, but it is no longer his focus and easier to ignore. When Jaeger then grabs his wrists and pins him down he closes his eyes again and the moans aren't so difficult to fake. He wonders what it would feel like if Smith did this.

The thought has a fire lit in his stomach and the cock thrusting into him isn't as invasive. Licking his lips, Levi can almost imagine Smith's hands on him, his scent of understated cologne, how the short hair on his neck tickles against Levi's mouth. He gasps and arches his back as much as there is room for, allowing Jaeger a better angle to thrust into him.

“You like that, hm baby?” Jaeger whispers in his ear and Levi wants to punch him, but instead he nods his assent.

“More,” Levi demands. Maybe if Jaeger is too busy fucking him he'll shut up. The fist in his hair pulling his head back is a surprise. Apparently nice Jaeger is gone, replaced by the version Levi is much more familiar with. Like this, Levi can't really muffle his sounds, but it doesn't seem like Jaeger minds his strangled gasps. Perhaps rather the opposite, and the way he slams into Levi now is a far cry from the good boy attitude Jaeger affected just moments ago.

Normally it isn't difficult for Levi to let his mind wander, but now he's acutely aware of the sting in his scalp, the bruising grip around his wrist, the tightening of his gut to better bear the pounding and the zipper of Jaeger's pants scraping against his bare skin. Had it been Smith it would have sent Levi over the edge and the thought has a drawn out moan escape between his clenched teeth. He can't even be embarrased about it because it's what it takes to make Jaeger spill inside him. Letting go of his hair, Levi's head thuds back down and he can feel Jaeger's cock pulse inside him. That always feels good regardless.

They're both breathless, Jaeger with excertion and Levi with the rollercoaster of emotions he's just gone through. He never thought it he'd like it, not in a million years, and yet...

There's silence. For the first time Jaeger seems at a loss for words and Levi is not about to prompt him for any. Levi's own dick has grown half hard and he tries to will it away by reminding himself where he is and whom he's with. When Jaeger starts pulling out, his muscles seizes up at the discomfort. He's fucking in it now. Once Jaeger is fully extracted, Levi can feel the cum seeping out and he just knows it's going to stain the car seat. It has him smirking because it is pretty fucking hilarious.

“It's your own fucking fault for not putting on a condom,” Levi prods as he struggles to sit up again. His legs and arms are shaking and he's hurting pretty much everywhere; from his scalp to his spine that got twisted to his guts and ass.

Just as Levi leans over to gather his clothes a hand curls around his throat and slams him back into the backrest of the seat. The shock at the sudden agression leaves Levi unable to react before Jaeger is kissing him. He's biting at Levi's bottom lip until he opens his mouth and the hot tongue plunges in. When Levi tries to push at him the hand around his throat tightens and he quickly gives up. Jaeger has never done anything like this before.

Possibly Levi could have fought his way out of there, he's gotten out of stickier situations, but one: you don't beat up a cop. Two: especially not someone like Jaeger who could ruin him with just a few words.

When Jaeger finally pulls back he snaps his hand away from Levi's throat like he's been burned.

“What the-” Levi wheezes.

“Sorry I hurt you, baby,” Jaeger whispers and when he raises his hand to brush some of Levi's hair away, Levi can't help but flinch. “I got carried away,” Jaeger excuses himself and starts righting his rumpled shirt and tucking himself away.

“No shit,” Levi whispers. With his eyes warily watching Jaeger for any unexpected attacks, he gets his clothes from the floor and quickly pulls them on. Thankfully years of fucking in cars has made him somewhat of an expert at dressing and undressing in them.

Just as Levi has opened the car door and is about to get the fuck out of there, Jaeger grabs his wrist again and he's whirling around and just about to go through with it and actually punch his face in, when he sees the money in Jaeger's other hand.

“Buy your sister something nice, okay?” Jaeger says with a smile and Levi thinks maybe he could kill this man and dump his body in the river. How fucking _dare_ he?

Snapping the notes out of Jaeger's hand, Levi is out of the car and getting away as quickly as he can. He's so fucking angry he just wants to scream at the top of his lungs, but he keeps it in until he's slammed the backdoor of Maria shut behind him. Kicking at the stack of grates lined up by the wall, they topple over with a satisfyingly loud noise, though Levi is certain he won't get the proper outlet for his emotions unless he tears the entire building apart with his hands.

“What in Lord's name is going on down here?” Mo's mild voice breaks through Levi's roiling thoughts and he stops, heaving for air, finally seeing the utter chaos he's managed to create in the hallway.

“Sorry,” he says, not really sounding sorry at all. “I met Jaeger outside.” It is enough of an explanation for Mo and he motions for Levi to just move on ahead.

“I'll get this and then I'll meet you up at the bar,” Mo offers and Levi can't say no to that.

Sitting on the toilet, Levi stares at the scrawled text he's read so many times before. Telephone numbers, promises of a good time, some meaningful song quotes. It's not like he minds his job, but some days it just gets too much even for him. Things had been so simple and straightforward and then suddenly two blonde cops appears in his life. One a continious thorn in his side, the other quickly taking over more of Levi's thoughts than he feels comfortable with. Yeah, it's about time for a good, long break.

Somewhat cleaned up, Levi makes his way to the bar on legs that's quivering in a way that just makes him angrier. Leaning up against the barstool, he gratefully accepts the shot of vodka given to him by Mo and downs it in one go. The familiar burning down his chest almost feels like a homecoming.

“One more, Mo,” he demands and pushes the glass towards the man. Mo gives him a critical look, the one that says that he shouldn't really be shotting vodka at four in the afternoon, but Levi doesn't give a shit. If he isn't drunk by five then the entire day has been a waste.

“You really should find a way to get Jaeger off your back,” Mo sighs, but obediently fills Levi's glass again.

“You're one to talk,” Levi replies, his throat still sore after the chokehold and the vodka both. “I know whose money is in my pocket right now.”

Mo's lips thins and his brow draws into a scowl. Then he gets another glass and pours himself one.

“To being Jaeger's little puppets,” he toasts and they both down the shot.

Levi is out of cigarettes because Smith keeps bumming them of him. Why can't he just buy his own god damned packet if he wants them so much? Levi fell asleep in his sweats and hoodie again last night and he'd feel disgusting if he had been able to give a shit. He just pulls on his jean jacket again to go to the store. Doesn't matter anyway. Wrenching open his door with half a mind of asking Petra what she needs, he stands face to face with a stranger. He's knocking on Petra's door and Levi wonders if he's one of the parents of the kids Petra watches. Well, it is none of Levi's business.

After having argued with the clerk at the cashier, yet again, Levi walks home with a packet of Camels in his pocket and a bag full of beer and frozen pizza (and some milk because maybe Petra needs it, and a packet of animal crackers because he's weak). Levi stops halfway down the hallway to his flat by the sight in front of him. Petra is gesticulating wildly and her red hair has fallen into her face while the man from earlier has a grip around Eren's wrist who in turn is uncharacteristically quiet. Petra's voice is strained, but the man, Eren's father Levi is guessing, answers in measured tones.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Levi questions and moves so that he's partially between Petra and this man. Whatever it is, he's not about to side with a man who has that kind of grip around Eren's small wrist.

The man's startlingly blue eyes, too reminicent of Eren's, widen when he sees Levi's hostile scowl, but then he gives a tentative smile. His gaze flicker over Levi's body, taking in his unkept look and must have reached an unfavourable conclusion if the crease between his brows is anything to go by. Levi really doesn't give a fuck though.

“Levi,” Eren's small voice calls out and he reaches a grimy, little hand towards him.

And Levi never thought his heart could break like this again.

Ignoring Levi, Eren's father turns his attention to his son, “I'm off my late night shifts Eren, so now we have two weeks together without any interruptions. I promised you we'd go to the movies, didn't I?”

Eren's face goes from a worried frown to a wide, tooth gapped smile and Levi notes that his teeth are already growing in. Why does this feel so bad? This is Eren's father after all, and after a week of absence it should be a relief for them all that he showed up. But Levi can hear Petra's strained breathing behind him and the man's grip has still not loosened around Eren's wrist.

“He can walk by himself, you know,” Levi all but growls and his anger is becoming more difficult to control. He's seen enough of this shit, been through enough of it, and Eren is perhaps the last person who deserves it.

The man looks down at his grip like he's been unaware of it and quickly lets go. Eren looks momentarily confused, but then Petra hands him his little backpack with dinosaurs on and realisation dawns on his face.

“I'm not staying with Petra anymore?” he questions and his father gives a sigh of frustration.

“I've already told you plenty of times that we're going home, haven't I?”

That nonplussed look on Eren's face is all too familiar to Levi. Where is home? He grits his jaw so that he won't inadvertently say anything that could get Petra in trouble. This is her best source of income and they're saving for a house and-. It is harder than Levi ever thought it could be to watch Eren walk behind his father down the hallway with his dinosaur backpack on.

Turning to Petra he finds her drawing in deep lungfulls of air and blinking her eyes rapidly. Stupid Petra who wears her heart on her sleeve. You got to protect that shit, Levi thinks, keep it under lock and key. Her small shoulders are shaking with the strain it takes for her not to cry and Levi really wished he was anyone else but himself. He doesn't have any comforting words, he doesn't know how to make her think of something else. He wishes Isabel was home, or even better, Furlan. He always knows what to do- he'd have Petra smiling in no time.

“I'm such an idiot,” Petra croaks and Levi sort of agrees, though that doesn't absolve him of his own stupidity. They're both idiots, they both knew it would end like this. “I tried to tell Dr. Jaeger that Eren needs to talk to a psychologist, or just _someone_ that can help him with his nightmares, you know? But he just said it isn't really a problem when he's at home, so...”

The name has chills running down Levi's spine. He never knew Eren's last name and now he wonders if they're somehow associated with detective Jaeger. Impossible, they look nothing alike. Perhaps distant relatives. Then the rest of Petra's confession catches up to him and he remembers all the mornings Eren has trooped up at his flat with red rimmed eyes. All the tears he cries when Petra is around and he wonders why they don't fall around this Dr. Jaeger's presence. Maybe because he feels safer with his dad. Maybe because he _doesn't_ feel safer with his dad.

“Want to call Oluo and ask if he can end his shift early?” Levi suggests instead of commenting. He doesn't have anything to say, he's too dumb for this shit.

“I don't know,” Petra sniffs and furiously wipes at her cheek where tears are rapidly falling. “He's already gotten yelled at by his boss for quitting night shift early so often.”

“You know you can call for me if you need anything during the night, right?” She should know, why doesn't she know?

Petra opens her mouth, then shrugs and seems to think through what she wants to say. “You work so hard, Levi, you're tired all the time now and this is _my_ job. I shouldn't involve you in it anymore than I already do.”

Some of Levi's initial anger flares up like dormant embers in his gut. Petra should know him better than this.

“How much of this shitty life would we be able to handle if we didn't have each other?” Levi asks her heatedly, “how much would we have been able to handle if we didn't know that we had each other's back?”

The stubborn set of Petra's shoulders returns and she nods. “You're right,” she whispers, then coughs to clear her throat, “we'll just have to do our best when Eren is here, is all, give him what we never got.”

Levi holds up his grocery bag now that they're finally in more familiar territory. “I got you some milk... and animal crackers for when Eren comes back. Also beer, if you want.”

With a crooked smile, Petra nods, “some beer would be good.”

It is barely two in the afternoon but they're already three beers in and somewhere along the way they've also eaten themselves through half of Eren's box of animal crackers. Petra promises that she'll buy a new one, then she breaks down and cries on Levi's kitchen table.

“I just lost it, right in front of him,” she says and shakes her head, “he must think I'm some sort of crazy woman.”

Levi doesn't really have anything to say. His own answer would have been to punch this Dr. Jaeger in his smug face and that would certainly not have ended well. They just keep on going, Petra and him, fighting for a tomorrow that looks just like yesterday. Maybe it's the beer, maybe it's his fever that keeps on coming back, but Levi's chest feels tight and his head heavy. What does it matter, anyway, in the end. Petra might finally get that house and move to the suburbs while Levi will probably die in a car and be tossed in a ditch somewhere. It is the only future he really manages to imagine anymore. The dream of finishing a painting and getting recognition died a long time ago and yet he keeps on painting. Maybe a childish part of him thinks he's something more if he paints; that he's an artist, not just a whore.

“Look at us,” Petra hiccups between tears, “aren't we pathetic?”

Levi lifts his beer and clinks it against Petra's. To being dreamers born of filth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I wish you the best ❤

**Author's Note:**

> [ Here's](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2NMjsNF8o0iCQeQJbIMH58?si=Acm2PTDJQVOqp2FGDe8tnA) the playlist if you're so inclined 🎶


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